


Black Birds: Rites of Initiation

by Silvermind



Series: Black Birds [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Developing Friendships, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 64,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvermind/pseuds/Silvermind
Summary: Set about a year before the events of Gotham season one:This was his queue. Now it was Oswald’s turn to perform. Taking one final deep breath before entering the spotlight, he looked up and walked towards the piano placed at the left corner. Without much further ado he took his seat and nodded respectfully towards the owner of Mooney’s Night Club. This would be the day where he got a foot into Fish Mooney’s door.





	1. The Audition

 

Chapter 1: The Audition

The stage fright of his upcoming performance hit him with full force when he peeked out of the folds of the curtains onto the stage.  
He was sure that the lady of the house couldn’t see him just yet, but she sat at one of the wooden tables waiting expectantly. A young woman who auditioned before him just packed up her violin. Her expression showed a mix of relief and dread. It was easy to tell that she wasn’t able to read Fish Mooney’s reaction about her music-making. The violin player bowed briefly and moved towards the exit of the stage.

This was his queue. Now it was Oswald’s turn to perform. Taking one final deep breath before entering the spotlight Oswald looked up and walked towards the piano placed at the left corner. Without much further ado he took his seat and nodded respectfully towards the owner of Mooney’s Night Club. The gorgeous woman dressed in a short golden dress lazily signaled him to begin.  
Oswald stretched out his shaking hands and lay down his fingers slowly to entice a soft melodic tune from the instrument. The feeling of the keys reminded him of the song he chose to play for the beginning of his audition. His nervousness added a little shakiness to the rhythm at first, but within a few moments the muscle memory of his hands carried the music with ease and confidence.

When a longer rest in the song permitted it, Oswald took a quick look at Fish Mooney to discern if she approved of his playing or not.  
The opulent dressed woman began to look a little distracted by the quiet steps of the cleaning girl who moved from table to table to wipe them down. Oswald chose this moment to finish his first song a little earlier than planned and moved to something more lively. A chipper jazzy piano piece might be the right thing for such as tasteful venue like Mooney’s Night Club. Fish did seem to be more enthralled by Oswald’s new choice. She turned her head in attention and studied his body language. His hands moved a little faster at the more complex parts, picking up the pace. Oswald thanked the heavens for not letting him screw up. He had practised for days until his hands felt cramped to hone his skills for this audition. This would be the day where he got a foot into Fish Mooney’s door.

Oswald played a few more pieces of varying moods and paces and came to an end after the duration of the violin player’s performance before him. After releasing the last key and hearing the tone fill the hall of the club Oswald’s anxiety returned. Fish on the other hand just looked at him expressionless and waited. Slowly her hand moved up and motioned Oswald with one wriggling finger to come to her. The addressee swiftly left the stage and exited the backstage area. In an attempt to slow his racing heart Oswald took a break to release the tension he felt with one long breath. Then his feet took him to the lady sitting at the small round table who patted the chair next to her. Fish took a sip of her drink and eyed the slender man brimming with anticipation before her.

She waited until he was seated and said easily, “You got the job, boy.”  
Oswald was too surprised to respond right away and just stared at his new boss. Suddenly Fish snapped her fingers -  
“Hey, you listenin’?” - and leaned towards the startled young man.  
“Y-Yes! Yes, Miss Mooney! I’m sorry for not responding immediately. I was merely struck by your quick approval!”

Oswald wrung his hands excitedly and asked, “You...you li-liked my playing?” Fish Mooney rolled her eyes in annoyance.  
“Sure! I need a piano player. That’s what the notice said, didn’t it? Now stop being so wimpy! You’re makin’ me cringe.”

The nerve-racked young man wanted to apologize again, but his new boss cut him short with an abrupt movement of her hand.

“Let’s discuss business. I ain’t got the whole evening.” She smiled satisfyingly and continued, “I want you to come in at six tomorrow and rehearse with my boys and girls. Cinderella will show you around a bit. Easy as pie.” Fish turned her head towards the cleaning girl and called, “Cindy! Come over here.”

The cleaning girl walked briskly to Fish and silently awaited her orders.  
“Take New Boy over here to Butch, but show him the performers’ rooms first!”  
The young woman nodded and quietly said, “Yes, Miss Mooney.”

She took a few steps forward to stand next to Oswald and patiently waited for him. The dainty man quickly stood up and bowed a few times in front of Fish. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for this opportunity Miss Mooney! I will do my best to accommodate your wishes! I will not disappoint you!”  
Oswald’s new boss replied expectantly, “You better not…” She winked at him once and stood up too. “Have fun you two!”

The glamourous woman picked up her drink to head towards the bar where a tall brunette bartender was polishing a cocktail glass. The night club’s new piano player gulped heavily and took in the moment. His demeanor changed to contentment after realizing that the worst part of his job application was over. Now, he needed to observe and learn everything that Fish Mooney’s employment had to offer. A quiet polite sounding cough shook him out of his reverie.

“Shall we?”, asked the slightly shorter woman next to Oswald. His face flushed a little in embarrassment when he thought about how long he must have stood there contemplating his newest success.

“S-Sorry for making you wait! I am still excited about everything that transpired up until now, “ Oswald said shyly. The tired looking woman nodded in understanding. “I remember my own interview.” She motioned for Oswald to follow her. “Follow me. I will show you the rooms Miss Mooney mentioned.”

The cleaning lady beelined around the tables towards the open doors leading to the backstage area. She entered the hallway which lead to rooms Oswald has yet to see. During their brief stroll Oswald studied the woman next to him. Just now he noticed that she had bright blonde hair which she kept under a dark bandana. With a little amusement he also saw her wearing an ugly colored apron tied around her waist.  
Apart from her long skirt and short sleeved blouse nothing looked out of the ordinary. Suddenly they came to a stop.

The cleaning girl opened the metallic shiny door in front of them and stepped in.  
“This is the performers’ room where they can-” A startled yelp surprised both of them. A beautiful woman scantily dressed stood across from them behind a table. The brunette hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans.

She yelled, “CINDY! DAMMIT! Knock next time!!!” The dancer buttoned up and grabbed her top and jacket to cover herself. “AND DON’T LOOK!”

The two standing at the door averted their gazes shamefully. “I-I’m really sorry Casey! I didn’t know th...th-there was still somebody here. Usually at this time-” The dancer interrupted the flustered woman, “Forget it! Just clean shit up!”

Casey rushed to get dressed and dashed out of the room, harshly brushing the quaint cleaning lady aside. After the sound of her steps faded away Oswald released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He could see that his coworker looked very uncomfortable and tried to resolve the tension in the air.

“That...was rude. She surprised me too, Cindy.”  
“My name is not Cindy, “ the woman interjected curtly. Oswald was surprised and said, “I apologize. Miss Mooney called you that, so I assumed it was your name.” He could hear a deep sigh coming from her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She sighed again. “I just don’t like being called that way. And I especially don’t like Casey.” The blonde turned away from Oswald and moved towards the left corner of the room where another door was visible.

“Please wait!” Oswald lightly touched the young woman’s shoulder and she turned towards him questioningly. “Let’s do this a little more formally.” He gestured his hand towards himself and said, “My name is Oswald Cobblepot!”

He smiled at the blonde kindly and asked, “What is your name?” The cleaning woman smirked shyly at his gentleman like approach and answered, “My name is Katherine Crowe.”

This time she took the initiative and reached out her gloved hand. Oswald looked down on it and crinkled his nose a bit which caused Katherine to look at him skeptically. He broke the silence by saying, “Excuse me, but would you mind taking it off first?”

The blonde blinked a few times and then burst into an embarrassed laugh. Did he hear a quiet snorting sound?  
“I’m so sorry! Of course. I often forget that I’m wearing them.” She quickly removed her wash glove and shook Oswald’s hand.  
“Nice to meet you Oswald Cobblepot.” His blue eyes looked into deep brown ones when he replied, “And nice to meet you too, Katherine Crowe.”

They released their hands and Katherine put her glove back on. She pointed towards the door she was heading to earlier.  
“Let’s continue the tour. You still have to go to Butch afterwards.”

Oswald nodded affirmatively and followed Katherine to the dressing room. This time she knocked and waited for a few moments before entering. Briefly, she showed the lockers and benches where the performers had the means change into their costumes or take a short break. They returned to the room where Casey had been and Katherine showed the layout of the so called break room. There was one desk with a big binder on top. The shorter woman explained to Oswald that it included the plans, timetable, and schedules of all performers. Usually everything would be discussed with the stage manager Mr. Alonso and stage technician called Steve who Oswald would meet tomorrow.

Soon they left the performer’s rooms and were on their way to Butch’s office. Oswald didn’t know what to expect from a man with that kind of name and hoped Katherine would give him a helpful hint. “Who is ‘Butch’ exactly?”

The young woman hesitated and then replied, “He’s Miss Mooney’s right hand man. And he is fiercely loyal to her.” She stopped in front of a quaint looking door and turned towards Oswald. “Just a little advice...better address him with Mr. Gilzean. Since you two meet for the first time.”

Katherine smirked. “He will be impressed, because he is rarely addressed this formally.”  
Oswald returned her expression with a grin. “Thank you. That is good to know.”

The blonde stepped past him and her face became blank. “Good luck. I’ll probably see you around.”

The black haired man thanked her again and briefly said good bye. He watched her for a few seconds as she departed and then decided to knock on the door. A deep voice invited him inside and Oswald entered. As he passed the door frame, he could make out a fairly sized room with a few slim rectangular windows bordering the top of the opposing wall. The light from the street lamps shone dimly into the office which probably belonged to the burly man sitting at the heavy looking desk. His face was further highlighted by an old fashioned desk lamp that shone on to the documents that lay before him. The man who was dressed in a sleek pinstripe suit pointed towards one of the two chairs that stood in front of his table. As Oswald took a seat the taller man began to speak.

“Hi, I’m Butch and welcome to ‘Mooney’s Night Club’.” He folded his meaty hands on a paper which could be his contract.  
“So you’re the new piano player? Fish told me she was sure she’d find somebody tonight. Guess she was lucky.”

Oswald nodded and waited for Butch to continue. “Well, I expected her to choose somebody a little easier on the eyes, but I guess talent and looks don’t always go hand in hand.”

Oswald’s polite smile nearly slipped, but his eyes couldn’t hide the insult he felt.

Butch didn’t seem to notice as his eyes skimmed the paper below him. “Alright, new guy. Name, address, bank account.”

It calmed the fresh employed piano player to know that they would be quickly moving on to formalities and he pulled out a folded note from his chest pocket. Oswald handed it to Butch. The burly man looked at it with mild intrigue.

“Look here! You came prepared! That’s always a good trait.” At this Oswald had to smile a little. After opening the note, Butch raised his eyebrows when he read Oswald’s full name. “Oswald. Chesterfield. Cobblepot? Seriously!?” The burly man chuckled humorously.  
“Sounds like you’re from last century! And you’re almost look the part too!”

His big cheeks lifted by the sound of his own little joke. Oswald was not amused and tried his best not to show his bad temper. He inwardly reminded himself that an outburst would leave a very bad impression on his employer. Therefore he swallowed his anger and forced a thin smile on his lips. A distraction came to mind.

“Talking about names...Mr. Gilzean.” The mentioned man looked at Oswald with renewed attention.  
“Why does Miss Mooney call the cleaning lady who brought me here ‘Cindy’?”

Butch had to grin from shorter man’s question. “Oh her! Cindy is just short for Cinderella. That’s what most people call her here.”  
A puzzled look crossed Oswald’s face. Butch elaborated further.

“You do know Cinderella, right? Blonde, poor, cleans stuff?”  
“Yes, I know Cinderella Mr. Gilzean,“ assured him Oswald.  
“Good, then why the big question mark over your face? She wears an apron, a bandana, and looks like the poor man’s version of Lauren Bacall. Doesn’t that say enough?”

Butch chuckled again, pleased with his choice of words and began filling out the contract. Unfortunately for Oswald, Butch’s explanation made him imagine Katherine being bullied by mean step-sisters who looked like Casey and their horrid mother. Fish Mooney would definitely lead the role as evil stepmother. He shook the image from his mind and waited for Butch to get done. Soon the burly henchman asked him to sign the paper and seal the deal. Oswald looked over all the details and signed the contract after finding no mistake. He returned the paper to Butch.

“Welcome, new employee! We’re done here. You’ll get a copy tomorrow after your shift. Now scram!”

He waved the younger man out and turned back to the other files on his desk. Oswald was only too happy to leave the presence of this insulting man and said his good bye upon exiting the office. After closing the door the slim man took full pleasure to scowl deeply as he remembered Butch’s biting comments. No, he wouldn’t forget those so fast. He could keep a grudge and nurture it if the responsible party wouldn’t change their behavior. Oswald took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. It wouldn’t help his cause if he encountered his boss this agitated.

He chose the fastest way to the exit of the club and walked with renewed determination. When he entered the hall he saw Fish Mooney standing at the bar and having a brief talk with the bartender. She appeared to be chiding him for a mistake he had made, judging be the sour expression his face. Oswald intended to show his good manners by taking leave personally and waited for her to finish the conversation.  
A few moments later his boss moved away from the counter and he took the opportunity to repeatedly thank her for the chance she has given him. This time she seemed to appreciate the gesture and even gave him a kind smile as she reminded Oswald of his schedule tomorrow.  
Then Fish walked off towards the direction Oswald came from. He on the other hand exited the club with eager steps.

The insults from Butch didn’t sting as much as they did earlier, since Oswald’s thoughts were filled with the excitement of telling his mother of the great news he wanted to share. Luckily his feet already knew where he had to go, because Oswald wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. He would always know how to get home...wherever he was in Gotham. On the subway he thought about the encounter with Katherine and felt content about having a coworker who was on pleasant terms with him. To his disdain, it had happened too often that people regarded him with dislike or even repulsion when they met him for the first time. It was a hard lesson to learn that people had an aversion towards anything that falls out of their definition of ordinary. In Oswald’s case there seemed to be a number of things that put especially superficial people off. Good for him that he wasn’t a crowd-pleaser.

After a short walk from the subway station, Oswald stood in front of the old apartment building where his mother and he lived together. With a small spring in his steps he swiftly ascended the stairs in the hallway and stopped at the familiar door on the fourth floor. Oswald unlocked the it and stepped in only to find his mother waiting longingly for her son on their ornate couch.

Gertrúd turned towards the sound of her son’s approaching steps and gleefully exclaimed, “Oswald! You’re home!”

The elderly woman got up and went to Oswald who already spread his arms in welcome. They hugged happily for a moment and opened the embrace, but his mother still held onto his arms in anticipation.  
“Tell me, my boy… How did it go?” Her big blue eyes met Oswald’s teasing glint.

“I’m not sure where to begin, Mother. It was a demanding audition… At first there was this other artist who-”  
Gertrúd impatiently gave her son a light shove to draw his attention to her burning question at hand.

“Oswald!” She lifted her hands to lay them on his smiling cheeks and imploringly glanced at him. “Tell me first! Did you get contract?”

At the mention of his recent success Oswald’s smile grew even wider. He laughed joyfully as he said, “Yes, Mom! I got the job! I’ll be performing at Mooney’s Night Club!” Gertrúd’s eyes widened and she pulled him into a tight hug.

“My good boy! I’m sooo happy for you!” With added affection she gave Oswald a kiss on both sides of his face. “You make your mother sooo proud!” She released her hold on her son and beckoned him to the dining table in the next room. “Come! Eat! Then you tell _Mama_ everything!”

Both sat down at the old fashioned table which was set with Gertrúd’s home made dishes. Hunger overcame the young man and he remembered being too excited to eat before his audition. With fervor he began to feast on the meal Gertrúd had prepared for him.  
Between swallows, he recounted the events of the evening, but left out the part where Katherine and he startled the half naked dancer in the break room.

Beaming with joy Gertrúd patted her son’s arm to express her elation. She did however point out that all piano lessons, even the ones that were especially challenging for Oswald, payed off in the end. Her son had wholeheartedly agreed. Of course his skill was only a means to an end, to get into the mob. But his sainted mother didn’t need to know that.

Soon it was time for both of them to call it a day and being the well mannered man that he was, he offered to tidy up the dining table and kitchen. His mother swatted his reaching hands away and told him to get ready for bed. She would take care of everything, she insisted,  
since he had had an eventful night altogether. Oswald thanked his mother and got up to go to his room. At this point the aftermath of all the excitement was beginning to show in his increasing fatigue.

After his preparations he lied in bed and listened to the bustling sounds of his mother in the kitchen. The familiar noises always calmed his nerves and helped lull him to sleep. Oswald knew he would need all the rest he could get, since from tomorrow on each of his actions had to be driven and focused on his goal to become the ‘King of Gotham’ one day. With this last lingering he thought he drifted off to sleep and dreamt of sitting at the head of a long table with a circle of cronies at his demand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at fanfiction =) I hope you'll enjoy to read it as much as I enjoyed to write it.


	2. Watchful Eyes

When Katherine left Oswald behind she was almost considering to wait around the corner and return to the door to eavesdrop. It was always interesting when a new employee appeared, especially someone as unusual as Oswald. His traditional suit and dark vest reminded her of the fashion the characters in a Lovecraftian short story would wear.

Katherine started to walk towards her cleaning supplies but paused for a moment to look over her shoulder when she heard Oswald entering Butch’s office. She genuinely wished him good luck for his talk with the burly henchman.  
Butch liked to mess around with others and the new piano player didn’t look like the type to enjoy that kind of humor.  
In her case he liked to tease her about her choice of clothes and the likeness of a certain fairy tale character.

The blonde walked past the performer’s rooms and thought about investigating the whereabouts of Casey’s confrontation. Moments later she entered and studied the interior of the break room. The lockers were closed,  
a few random personal articles lied around, and there were used towels and pieces of clothing poking out of the hamper. For nearly a year now did Katherine look at dirty laundry from her performing coworkers. Sometimes she had to remind herself that being a cleaning lady was still better than standing at a dark street corner at night wearing something that barely covered her torso and hoping that the next client wouldn‘t beat her up. Her attention drew back to Casey’s locker.

After making sure that she was the only person around,  
she rummaged in the pockets of her apron and pulled out a small black kit.  
Katherine opened it and took a few lockpicking tools into her hand. Deftly she put herself to work and gently wriggled inside the lock.

A short time later the satisfying smooth movement of the bolt could be felt. She smiled at her small success and carefully opened the trove of Casey’s secrets. At first she saw things one would expect inside a dancer’s locker.  
But oftentimes Katherine noticed details that would jump out to her like a ‘Find-the-Mistake!’ puzzle.

This time though anybody could have spotted the handwritten note which was quickly shoved into a skimpy black and red outfit the serving girls sometimes wore.  
With great curiosity the blonde read the note and saw a ten digit number.  
The cleaning girl felt disappointed by the contents of the slip of paper and had hoped to find something more juicy inside. Nevertheless she hastily memorized the number and put the note back where she found it.

Calmly the original state of the locker was restored.  
Using a pen she had in one of her many pockets, she wrote the number on her wrist where the long rubber gloves would cover them. Katherine valued any kind of information and knowing this number or finding out whom it belonged to might turn out in her favor one day.  
Once she was in no incriminating position anymore,  
she methodically began to empty the hamper and the trash bins. Due to the repeated routine of cleaning she didn’t feel any disgust or revulsion for all the messy things she saw.  
In a moderate span of time she had cleaned up the room to her boss’ expectation. Then she left the room with the garbage and dirty laundry and brought them to the hall at the back entrance where the dry cleaning service would pick it all up.

Katherine continued her rounds by checking the ‘entertainment facilities’ upstairs for fresh bed sheets and towels. Once or twice she had to work on an ugly stain,  
but nothing she wasn’t able to handle. She hated this part of her job nearly the most, but found respite in imagining all the dirty secrets she had discovered while cleaning up. Such as a lost business card of one of the patrons which was left behind or an ornate metal pin which she surely saw on the lapel of the DA’s jacket on TV. The blonde collected these oddities and put down a few notes on whom they might belong too. There have been a few occasions in the past where blackmail had been quite lucrative. But her recent findings were worthless and she focused on getting done as quickly as possible.

After her shift she returned to her small chamber where a few personal belongings and cleaning supplies were.  
She put everything in its rightful place and removed her rubber gloves. Lastly she replaced her bandana with a black head scarf. Her mother only reminded her three times a day to wear it when she left for her night job. It was intended to not attract curious fellows with her blonde hair who were loitering the streets at night. Black gloves and a dark coat completed her outfit and she left through the narrow door.

Katherine entered the main hall and saw Fish sitting at the bar with a drink in her hand. She appeared to be alone and already noticed the cleaning girl walking in her direction.  
Her boss looked her in the eyes and showed with a quick nod to her side that she wanted her company. The blonde inwardly sighed and hoped that her boss didn’t want to talk for long.  
It always made her anxious to deal with her for more than a few minutes. The intensity of her gaze and her presence could make anyone feel cornered, like by a wildcat which was ready to pounce at the smallest slip-up. Quietly she took a seat next to Fish and waited for her to talk.

“Nice to see you, girl. Hope you don’t mind that I keep you here a little longer.” The golden dressed woman blinked alluringly.

Katherine shyly looked her in the eye and said, “Of course not, Miss Mooney. What did you want to talk about it?”

The older woman shifted a little in her seat and leaned backwards in comfort. “Cindy…”, she sighed. “It’s always straight to the point with you, ain’t it?”

She took a sip of her drink.

“But I don’t mind… I like that about you. That’s why I let you observe, so you can tell me about everything without sugar coating it.”

The younger woman seemed to shrink into her bar stool with growing worry. “What do you want to know?”

Fish pointed a finger at Katherine. “You tell me what you think about new boy.”

The cleaning girl was only mildly surprised, because her boss had asked her for assessments of new employees in the past. But usually she would wait a week to see how they would perform in their new position. Oswald appeared to be different in every case. The blonde wasn’t sure where to begin.

“I...think...he is a very talented piano player and will perform to the best of your wishes. Also he is well mannered which is a rare sight these days…”

Fish urged her to go on. “Judging from his attire he seems to be very tidy as well… Perhaps apart from performing he could also aid Mr. Alonso with the planning of the new soiree programs you had in mind?”

The older woman looked pleased and praised, “Good thinking little lady. I actually had something else in mind,  
but if he learns the ropes in due time, I’ll reconsider.”

Katherine’s curiosity got the better of her and she asked without hesitation, “What did you plan for him?”

Fish’s gracious demeanor changed instantly and she raised a finger with a clicking sound of her lips.

“Careful blondie. You don’t need to know. I’m the one asking questions…”

The younger woman swiftly responded, “I apologize, Miss Mooney. I did not mean any disrespect!”

Nervously she looked at her hands which were tightly folded on her lap. A brown finger lifted the younger woman’s chin to let their brown eyes meet.

“You better remember. Ain’t doing nobody good to be too nosey around here…”

Katherine’s eyes widened for a moment and she nodded obediently.

The older woman said, “You be a good girl now… And watch piano boy for me. Let me know how he’s doin’ during his ‘trial period’.”

The blonde replied the way she did all the time, “Yes, Miss Mooney. As you wish, Miss Mooney.”

Her boss retreated after these words and left her sitting at the bar alone. Her unfinished drink was still there and Katherine took it as a silent request to clean up after her.  
As soon as Fish was out of earshot a deep sigh escaped the young woman and she wished she hadn’t let her curiosity show.

Sometimes she just couldn’t help asking question in return,  
it was just part of her inquisitive nature. Knowing things was one of her greatest passions. Especially knowledge that would give her an advantage to progress with her career goals. But she had to be incredible cautious around the bossy woman. Katherine was sure she wouldn’t hesitate to break her bones if she found out about her collection of oddities or other information she gathered while in her employment.

After a quick wipe down of the bar she took off and left the night club. It didn’t take her long to get to the subway station and take one of the last trains that night. Katherine felt tired to her bones and was glad that she didn’t have to get to her day job so early in the morning. Her boss Mr. Parkins told her to drop by at noon since he would have somebody set up a new book shelf in the store before she arrived.  
She welcomed the opportunity to sleep in and looked forward to her father’s home cooked dinner.

While sitting on the train, she took a moment to examine the number she had written down from Casey’s locker.  
After copying it to her small notepad, she slowly began to rub the numbers on her wrist away. Solving the mystery behind the number could turn out to be a pleasant distraction from her more tedious tasks. The blonde decided to call the number when she could devote more time to it.

Eventually she arrived at the subway stop which would lead her to the apartment she shared with her parents. Rent was high in this neighborhood and it didn’t pay off to live alone. Also her parents welcomed the support she offered. Within a few minutes she entered the rustic apartment building and headed up the stairs to the door of her home.

With a number of satisfying clicking sounds she opened the locks and entered. She attentively closed the door with its bolts and latches behind her and walked to the closet in the hallway. Katherine removed her cloak, scarf, and gloves and searched for her parents in the living room.

As expected her mother sat at the secretary writing something in a journal and her father sat on the couch studying a cookbook she recently picked up for him.  
Both raised their heads at the approaching sounds their daughter made and they smiled at her.

Her father Anton got up to pull Katherine into a light hug. “Hey there's our little worker bee, glad you’re home.”

“Thanks Dad. Business was a little slow tonight so I could leave earlier, “ his daughter said.

“Good! You’re doing to much overtime anyway”, Anton retorted.

Katherine gave her father a tired smile and didn’t add to his comment. She turned to her mother who was still seated and moved to her side to give her a short embrace.

“Good evening Mom, hope you’re well today.” 

The woman with gray blonde hair responded, “I’m well enough, thank you.” She looked lovingly at her husband.

“Your father has prepared dinner for you. But unfortunately, he shall be the only one to keep you company.”

At this Katherine’s expression saddened a bit. “I’m sorry your arm is bothering you tonight. Do you want me to get your medicine?”

Her mother slowly shook her head and patted her child’s cheek with her remaining hand. “Don’t worry about me, bee.  
I’ll be better after a good night’s sleep. I just wanted to wait until you were home safely.”

The young woman’s heart clenched a bit and she nodded in understanding while she helped her mother get to bed.

As soon as her mother Elisabeth was comfortable she returned to her father who was already reheating his daughter’s dinner. Katherine took a seat at the quaint wooden table and looked forward to her father’s cooking.  
A few minutes later Anton set a bowl of pasta with red sauce in front of her and took the opposing seat. He propped up his head with one of his big hands and looked calmly at Katherine. At this moment she knew that her father was anticipating any kind of feedback for the food he had prepared. Already used to this tiny ritual between them,  
she took a bite and took her time tasting it.

Anton read his daughter’s expression and smiled lazily.  
“I’m glad you like it.”

She playfully rolled her eyes at him and swallowed her food before saying, “Daaad. I always enjoy your food. You know I’m not that difficult to please.”

Anton chuckled and said, “You know how I mean it. I’m just happy that you and me can share these moments together. They become rarer, that’s how things go.”

Katherine looked at her food somberly and thought about her mother dealing with her missing limb. Anton cleared his throat to get his daughter’s attention and swiftly changed the subject.

“How was work tonight?” He raised one of his eyebrows inquisitively. “Did the sassy one give you any trouble?”

Smiling amusingly she responded, “No, but a new coworker was introduced today. He’s our new piano player.”

Anton’s curiosity showed on his round face. “Finally a decent fellow…”

Katherine was about to continue, but her father lifted his hand for her to wait. “Did he treat you well?”

The young woman softly punched her father’s shoulder. “Dad! You don't need to be so protective. But if it puts your mind at ease...”, she chided him. “He has great manners and is well spoken. Perhaps he sounds a little orotund to your ears,  
but I prefer it, since I don’t speak slang.”

Anton folded his arms on his chest and smiled. Then he stood up and stretched his arms tiredly. “It’s time for me to join your mother. She might be feeling restless tonight.”

Katherine's expression grew concerned as she met her father's tired gaze.

She hesitated before saying, “I wasn't aware that we were nearing the time of Mom's accident.”

She prodded at her food to avoid her father's reaction.

Anton took a step towards her and affectionately squeezed his daughter's shoulder. “Don't feel bad...she doesn't want you to notice. You have enough on your plate with both of your jobs.”

His daughter lifted her head and focused on the older man. “Have you found closure after all these years?”

His expression hardened. “No.”

And nothing more was said between them this night. Katherine held her father's hand for a moment before he retreated to the bedroom.

After finishing her dinner, she went to the sink to wash her plate. Her father's answer stayed with her while she was rubbing at a dried up spot with soapy water. He was in part responsible for her mother's missing left arm, but she never had held it against him. Nine years ago both of her parents knew the risks when they attempted to steal from Maroni.

It was only thanks to their patron 'Jack the Gent’ that her mother had received adequate treatment.

And thanks to her, Anton wasn't sent to jail after that fateful day. The stain disappeared and swiftly she dried the bowl to place it inside in one of the cupboards. She closed the doors and left the kitchen to go directly to the bathroom.

There she underwent her final ritual of the day. Loving long showers, she used them to physical but also mentally wash off the dirt she dealt with when she worked at Fish’s. Usually it wasn’t too bad, but some memories haunted her from time to time when she thought of the black gym bag she kept in her metal closet. She rinsed off the last remains of the soap and dressed for bed. With quiet footsteps she entered her room and closed the door behind her. Then she slipped into bed and closed her eyes to let sleep take her.


	3. An Opportunity To Grow

Even though it was raining heavily Oswald was in a good mood. His black umbrella shielded him from the ongoing pitter-patter of the sky and he hastened towards the entrance of Mooney’s Night Club. For his first day he chose something a little more classy than yesterday to wear and his anticipation for the upcoming evening grew. Oswald planned to impress his new boss with each new day.

The young man soon entered through one of the double doors and placed his wet umbrella inside of the stands close to the wardrobe. He quickly checked if his small bow-tie sat straight and then proceeded to go to Butch who was already sitting at the bar looking through a binder. The shorter man greeted him politely and the burly man replied hastily without looking at him.

“Yeah, yeah, hi to you too. Just get to work! Steve our stage techie is already getting started. Help him out!” 

Oswald nodded and swiftly obeyed Fish’ henchman. 

He approached said stage technician and introduced himself. Steve who was a lanky redhead with a pair of headphones around his neck returned the hand shake and began to show Oswald how to set up the stage for his upcoming piano performance.The shorter man didn’t expect he would have to help out with these kinds of things, but didn’t complain audibly. He was trying to stay on the stage technician’s good side since he assumed Steve would report to Fish about his activities.

The redheaded man had an agreeable personality and took his time to show Oswald how the cables for the microphones had to be laid out and connected with the amplifiers. The shorter man sucked up every piece of information like a sponge and listened intently to Steve’s introduction to the stage layout. This knowledge would help him when devices had to be adjusted or replaced in between acts. But Steve also reminded Oswald that he should never touch the lighting fixtures, because it took him a great deal of time to set them to the right angles under Fish’s supervision. The raven haired man acknowledged the stage technician’s warning and continued the procedures.

Lastly they moved the piano on slow wheels to the left corner of the stage. It was time to check if the tuning of the instrument seemed alright and ready to be played. Without a break one of his stage appointments already appeared and waited for him to finish. Luckily it didn’t take long and Oswald was ready to discuss the music which was planned for the rehearsal.

A dark haired beauty dressed in a classy long dress came closer to him and handed him the notes of the songs she was instructed to sing. Oswald skimmed the pages and noticed with relief that most of the pieces where already familiar to him. The singer and Oswald quickly exchanged names and began to discuss the parts that were scheduled for practise. He felt at ease to meet another well mannered professional. After the escapade with the startled dancer last night he was worried that the other artists might be pretentious. The two of them became so engrossed in the planning of their rehearsal that they didn’t notice Fish taking a seat at the table closest to them. Only when Oswald returned to the piano to take his seat did he see his boss patiently waiting for them to begin.

A mix of nervousness and anxiety rose in Oswald’s chest and he turned to look at his stage partner who gave him a pressing look. It appeared that she wanted to get going as well. At this Oswald opened the notes to the song they planned to begin with and put his fingers on the keys. His nerves calmed down when he became immersed with his playing.

Two hours later Oswald’s brow was moist from sweating from the heat of the light fixtures and the strain of his focused playing. If the singer had been unsatisfied with his skill she didn’t show it, she merely reminded him to keep up his pace the next time they would practise. Oswald nodded affirmatively and put the lid of the piano keys down. He then took out a handkerchief from his jacket and dabbed at his face. The singer on the other hand seemed to be used to the heat of the stage and didn’t appear as flushed as Oswald. With long strides she left the stage to disappear into one of the rooms behind.

A moment later the stage manager himself appeared and beckoned Oswald to come to him. He followed and awaited what news the manager wanted to share. It was simple enough. Fish wanted to see him. Oswald gulped heavily. Walking a little slower than intended he finally reached his boss and folded his hands behind his back to hide his fidgeting.

He gripped his handkerchief tightly as she spoke,  
“I’m surprised Oswald.”

His blue eyes searched her brown ones. 

Fish put a cheeky smile on her lips. “You did better than I thought… I told Mona to put you to the test...and you passed...”

Oswald couldn’t stop his sigh of relief.

“For  _ now… _ ” He paled and played with his handkerchief to settle his nervous hands.

The classy woman pointed an accusing finger at him. _ "However _ ...you gotta work on your stage presence, boy. Can’t have you jittery and nervous before every show.”

The young man before her vigorously nodded his head.  
“Yes, Miss Mooney. I understand, Miss M-”

She silenced him with a ‘shht’ sound and a snap of her fingers. “No, you don't!" 

Oswald looked surprised and helpless. The gorgeous woman stood up and roughly grabbed him by the shoulders to push them apart and up. 

“Posture, Oswald! Posture!" 

His face positively looked overwhelmed trying to anticipate what Fish would probably do next. 

“You can make a big difference. Just like that! Remember to do it. I’ll watch you.”

Her intense glare made him squirm a little more before she broke eye contact and removed herself. Oswald wasn’t sure if his recent encounter with Fish was of the positive or negative kind. Apparently only time will tell.

In the meantime he took the opportunity to get an overview of what was happening at the club. If he remembered correctly it would open quite soon, so everybody was hustling to get their chores done.

Oswald watched how the barkeepers prepared the ice, cut fruit and put them in containers. All the while with Butch watching them and giving them orders here and there. He saw Fish joined at his side and discussing some matters over relaxed voices. It was not possible to understand what they were talking about since the opening act of the stage began to tune their instruments. Oswald wished he could be part of Fish’s and Butch’s conversation, but knew it was too early for that.

Instead he seeked out the stage manager to confirm the time of his next performance. Oswald was told that in one and a half hours he was expected to play some jazz music to comfort the patrons of their busy day. The raven haired man thanked him and went on his way to the artists’ break room. There he was hoping to find some refreshments and rest for a moment before he looked for something else to do.

The hallway was more crowded with people coming in and out of the place. Some watched him curiously and others looked at him with condescension. But he was already used to this behavior and tried not to mind too much.

Oswald reached the break room and was appalled to find Casey sitting at one of the tables with three of her coworkers. They were already dressed up in their scantily clad dance attire and drank cheap wine to pass the time. Casey was about to respond to a claim one of her friends made when she noticed him standing by the door.

“LOOK!!” She pointed an accusatory finger at him and continued, “That’s FREAK#2 who walked in on me while I changed my clothes!!!”

The other girls turned and stared at him with deep disgust. They weren't subtle about their comments. 

“...look at his clothes…”

“...emo goth…”

“...like an ugly vampire…”

Oswald's cheeks burned from the girls’ harsh insults and his heart raced from the mortification he felt. He thought that his time of being bullied was over, but adulthood didn't offer any rest.

The slim man became highly anxious and tried to defuse the situation. “I..I-I'm ve-ve-very sorry ab-b-bout the sit-t-tuation yesterday! It-t-t wasn't m-mine or Kath-”

Casey interrupted him rudely. “Her name is Cinderella, emo.” She said annoyed and looked at her friends for approval. They readily provided it by nodding or empathising the arguable nickname. 

“She cleans up after us.” 

She looked mischievously at her cohorts. 

“So if I do this…” 

Casey emptied her cup or red wine on the smooth floor. “Or this!” The cup was crushed in her hands and absentmindedly flung behind her back. 

“She'll have to make everything nice and tidy.” 

Overly pronouncing the last two adjectives.

Oswald's temper rose at the display of their child like behavior and he retorted, “You d-don't have t-to be so nast-t-ty about it!”

Suddenly a paper cup hit him in the temple. 

“Shut up! Beak-nose!” 

The girl on Casey's left had emptied her cup and used it as a projectile to anger Oswald even further.

This gave the other girls a bad idea and they followed her example. Other cup balls followed and Oswald covered his face with his hands and decided to leave. 

He knew from experience that there was no reasoning with bullies. Ugly insults and names followed him back to the hallway where he came from.

Oswald stood next to the closed door and clenched his fists in exasperation. When would this humiliation end? More annoyed than hurt he chose to investigate the premises to become more acquainted with his workplace. Strolling along the hallway he saw various people being occupied with carrying supplies for the kitchenette, the bar, or the stage. When busy, people didn’t seem to notice Oswald. And for that he was thankful for now.

At the same time the raven haired man came across a metal door which was opened to the inside. Curiously he peeked inside to see a young familiar woman dressed in a casual wrap dress who was about to put on her apron. Oswald’s demeanor lifted at the prospect to exchange a few kind words with the female coworker. He softly rapped his left knuckle on the open door. 

Katherine appeared to be faintly startled, but didn’t complain. She even gave him a weak smile and met him at the open door.

“Good evening, Katherine! Am I intruding?” asked Oswald.

The addressed blonde replied, “Hello Oswald. Not at all.” She bound her apron tightly behind her back. 

“Is there something I can help you with?”

He contemplated before responding. “Are there any refreshments apart the ones in the break room?”

Oswald studied the woman before him as he lightly shifted his weight from one foot to foot in minor restlessness.

Katherine gave at him a puzzled look. “Why do you ask? Are no drinks left?”

At this Oswald took in a small breath. 

“It is not about that...it is…” A moment of hesitation stood between them as shame entered the young man’s voice. 

He averted his gaze a little and said, “It’s the dancers… They chased me away.”

Oswald saw Katherine’s face change with his last statement and he witnessed how her once kind looking face shaped itself into a scowl. She quickly turned towards a short metallic shelf and forcefully grabbed a small bottle of water. Then she thrust it into Oswald’s hand with an aggressive shove. Oswald looked at the bottle and then at the angry woman in surprise.

“Eh...thank you?” He wasn’t sure what angered her, but saw her folding her arms across her chest.

She spoke, “I can’t believe it!” Huffing she shrugged her shoulders in lack of understanding. 

“Those bitches! They always pick on somebody who they see beneath them!”

Oswald jumped a fraction at the use of her cuss word. Not that he has never heard it before. But he didn’t expect it to come from Katherine’s introverted demeanor.

“Katherine, I appreciate the sentiment, but it wasn’t my intention to make you upset by telling you.”

It appeared that she has shared his experience with the dancers in the past, because she was as agitated as him in the moment he received their insults. 

Oswald prefered to not dwell in that recent memory and thanked Katherine again for the bottle of water. 

She responded in kind by telling him that he can always get some water here if she remembered to bring some. Oswald appreciated the gesture and offered to bring something to drink in return to refill her stock.

She blushed a light shade of red and just nodded. “I need to go now. I hope the rest of your first day will proceed without any further... bullying." 

Oswald stepped outside of the doorframe and watched Katherine leave his side. 

“Thank you. I wish you a pleasant evening as well.”

The young woman halted for a moment and asked, “When is your next performance?”

Oswald considered for a moment and then replied, “In about an hour.”

The blonde smiled at the slightly taller man and said, “Good. I’ll make sure to watch it. I’m looking forward to it.”

With these words she parted and left him standing at the open door of the cleaning supply chamber. Oswald’s ears grew a little warm. It was the first time that with the exception of his mother that somebody was delighted to see him perform. The feeling cheered him up a little and pushed the recent unpleasantness with Casey and the dancers to the back of his mind. Since he had more time to spare he took a sip of the water bottle in his hands and examined the small room Katherine had.

At first glance everything looked ordinary. There were a few shelves with cleaning supplies, a few bottles of water, some soda even, and a food container. 

On the other side of the wall was a short rack with hooks were her coat and brown shoulder bag hung. 

For a moment he thought about inspecting her personal belongings in order to find out more about her, but decided against it when he remembered how nice she had been. He concluded that in time there would be opportunities to ask more questions naturally. The only thing that irked him was the metal cabinet with a keyhole. A short tug at the handle confirmed his notion that it was locked. Oswald chose to return to the backstage area so that he could take a little time to prepare his act.

 

The third time on stage made Oswald less nervous that he thought he would be. It occurred to him that it would probably feel natural in a few more days. Also to his delight, it was his turn to play a few casual piano pieces that enticed and relaxed the audience. The customers have become more mellow and thus easier to please. Some had several drinks on their table and sleepily watched him plunking away on the keys. Others were absorbed in lazy conversations and visibly enjoyed the pleasant background tune. This scenario was something Oswald easily could get used to and began to relax.

The only moment that bothered his perfect image of satisfaction were two people he had recognized waiting the tables. Casey and one of her friends were now dressed in short red and black dresses that exposed their cleavage. It looked cheap and tasteless in his eyes. 

He wished they’d receive no tip for the remainder of the night, but knew this was wishful thinking.

Oswald let his wandering eyes move across the room and finally found what he was looking for. On the opposite side of the stage one floor up, he could see Katherine leaning against the railing and polishing it a little too slowly. 

She reacted to his gaze by smirking and offering him a small wave with her wash cloth. Oswald smiled at her shortly, blinked at her in recognition and then swiftly aimed his attention back to his hands. Even though this part of his job was easier than his rehearsal with the singer Mona, he didn’t want to screw up.

Eventually the further the evening progressed the more patrons left the club. It was getting late and Oswald was getting tired. But he defied to show it and continued until Fish, being one of the few remaining people in the main room, gave him a signal to wrap it up. And again he maintained his aura of professionalism and did not show how glad he was to come to a close. Two more songs and he let his piano playing lightly fade away.

As silence spread throughout the room even a few clapping hands could be heard. It might not be the thunderous applause he thought he deserved, but considered it a small win for his first day. The young man on stage closed the lid, got up from his seat, and made a small bow before leaving the stage. Upon leaving the backstage area, Oswald asked the stage manager if there was something he could help with before checking with Fish for his next tasks. The stage manager dismissed him quite impolitely and told him he would let Steve do the rest. Oswald didn’t question his judgement and entered the club hall. It felt good to come off the stage after a good performance. He thought that Fish would be pleased with him as well if she recognized some of the last patrons tipping their hats in approval of his skill.

Oswald beelined for Fish and asked, “Good evening, Miss Mooney. Is there something else you wish me to do after this evening’s performance?”

She eyed him languidly as she rested her elbow on the bar and her other hand rested on her hip. “You did good tonight,  _ new boy. Did see you took my advice to heart.” _

__

The young man before her nodded. “Yes, Miss Mooney...I am an eager learner.”

__

The woman dressed in a red short dress chuckled. 

__

“We’ll see about that.” 

__

Fish moved her hand towards the exit door in a generous gesture. “You’re done for tonight. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

__

Oswald bowed slightly in appreciation for his boss. “Thank you, Miss Mooney. I will be off then. Goodnight!”

__

After speaking his last word Oswald sought out his umbrella which he brought this early evening. He found it still poised in the stand and took it before he opened the door. Strangely it was still raining and he unfolded the umbrella by pushing its button. Oswald took his first step outside, but noticed a peculiar looking car standing directly opposite of the entrance on the street. He was by no means an expert with cars, but even a layman could tell that the black shiny Mercedes was very expensive looking...and apparently still occupied judging by the low buzzing sound of the motor.

__

Oswald wondered if Fish knew that this person was waiting in front of the club. It didn’t matter, 

__

he pondered, because he would be making a good impression either way for being so considerate. 

__

Swiftly he turned on his heel and went back inside to find Fish Mooney. As expected she was still standing at the bar in silent contemplation. Oswald walked around her in order to not surprise her and watched her look of annoyance and puzzlement as he approached.

__

“What’re you doing here? I sent ya home just moments ago.”

__

The timid man before her politely said, “I’m aware of this, Miss Mooney. But I came back to ask you if you knew there is a black Mercedes halting in front of the club.”

__

Fish’s look of surprise was more angry than happy. “What?!” 

__

She took a step towards him demandingly. 

__

“A black Mercedes?”

__

Oswald nodded repeatedly and said, “Yes, Miss Mooney. Are you expecting somebody?”

__

His boss gave him a flash of warning with her eyes and her raised manicured finger. “Not. Your. Business.” 

__

She abruptly turned and headed towards the door with rapid steps.

__

“Wait, Miss Mooney!” Oswald ran after her and nearly stumbled into her as she suddenly halted.

__

“WHAT?! Don’t make me wait,  _ boy!” _

____

The frightened man showed her his umbrella.“It’s raining outside. May I, Miss Mooney?”

____

Fish followed Oswald’s movement as he held the umbrella completely over her like an obedient servant.

____

She quickly followed his reasoning and responded dangerously, “You  _ may _ … But not one word from you! And keep everything you’ll see to yourself. Got it?”

____

Immediately Oswald replied, “Yes, Miss Mooney”.

____

Fish took one step closer and placed a long nail under his soft chin. “Don’t mess up… Or I’ll mess  _ you _ up…”

____

He gulped heavily while small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Understood, Miss Mooney.”

____

Oswald’s boss nodded curtly in satisfaction. 

____

“ _ Good _ ...now follow me.”

____

Without hesitation did Oswald follow the lavishly dressed woman outside into the rain. He didn’t mind getting wet. The prospect of seeing his boss interact with another person of high standing intrigued him greatly. And he wouldn’t miss the chance if he could help it.

____

With elegant strides she arrived at the window of the car. It slowly opened and Oswald had to peer to the side to make out an elderly man dressed in a fine suit sitting on black leather seats. By his observation the man in question could only be the one and true leader of all crime lords in Gotham. Don Falcone. 

____

Oswald had to physically force himself from gasping at his discovery and focused strongly on Fish to calm his nerves. It only helped a little.

____

“Don Falcone. Such a pleasure to receive you here...I was told you would arrive a little later. I apologize for not welcoming you sooner. Would you like to come in?”

____

Oswald heard the man inside the car take a short breath as he responded, “Fish. I appreciate the pleasantries, but I do not have time for it.”

____

The older woman merely nodded and waited for her boss to continue. 

____

“I’ve come here to inform you personally that I will raise the cut you owe me. This is nothing personal, and also intended for the others in the family.”

____

Fish’s brow curled slightly and asked, “Does this have anything to do with the confiscated shipments?”

____

Don Falcone smiled at the gorgeous woman appreciatively. “You are well informed. I am glad that explanations aren’t required.”

____

Fish nodded in approval and said, “Thank you for the courtesy you have bestowed on me, Don Falcone.” 

____

She even bowed humbly. 

____

“Please send my regards to the others, if you will allow it.” 

____

Fish straightened and waited for her boss’ reaction, but he seemed to be in a good mood and said, “Of course, my dear. Have a pleasant evening.”

____

Don Falcone waited for Fish to return the politeness and then raised his car window. The car slowly took off while Oswald and Fish watched it leave. The timid man was slowly beginning to shake from the wetness and cold that touched his skin and Fish kindly took it as a sign to let him return her to the confines of her house.

____

Oswald on the other hand was content to hear Fish telling him to race back home before he got a cold, because she intended to give him more work tomorrow. He rejoiced by the idea and began to run to the subway station while his wet clothes clung to his form. His black strands of hair which he had carefully placed around his forehead now were a plastered flat mess.

____

Oswald descended the stairs of the entrance and heard jovial mechanic sound coming from the train’s doors below. Sprinting down the steps and nearly slipping, the young man just pushed through the closing gap of the entry and made it just in time before the subway took off. Flopping down on a vacant seat he gasped for air to steady his pulse. Even though Oswald was of slim build he had always been more of an endurance runner than a sprinter. Like in his pursuit of greatness. It would take time to learn the tricks of the trade, lay out his plans, and execute them, but the moment of claiming control of Gotham would be his.

____

Sometimes it would do him well to be more patient, but Oswald was a pursuer of risks if they gave him the chance to move ahead. During his ride he recalled the events of the day and acknowledged how fast everything had went. Smirking he mused that even the first day at the mob was somehow similar to starting at a civilian workplace...like a restaurant. He moved on with his pondering and remembered his encounter with Casey and her friends. How much he hated their stupid faces already. They reminded him of the drama club goers at his high school who enjoyed to pick on others who were timid loners. Of course he had fit well into their predator-prey system.

____

But on to more pleasant thoughts...Katherine. He felt lucky for his moment of respite with her. Nevertheless it was a new sensation for him to be treated this nicely by another person other than his mother. Suddenly a drop of doubt landed on his pool of calmness. What if she only pretended to be nice to him and had a motive behind her actions? She might just be a cleaning lady, but she must have seen things happening at that club that would have scared a regular civilian off. Katherine wore the blank face of a stoic quite well and probably had good reasons to stay with Fish Mooney’s business.

____

At this moment Oswald decided to observe his budding relationships with his coworkers. His new employment at Fish’s was not all fun and games, his coworkers could become his enemies in his effort to climb the ladder. 

____

The aspiring mobster intended to tread with more caution from now on. 

____

 

____


	4. A Precious Find

At the top of the steel railing overlooking the main hall of the club Katherine watched Oswald play on stage.  
She took her time polishing the intricate designs of the metal work so that she could linger a while longer before she had to check the the state of the rooms on her floor.

Tonight was less crowded due to the rain and therefore less work for her. The blonde looked at Oswald’s wandering gaze and realized that he was looking right at her.  
She appreciated the smile he offered and she gave him a smirk and a light shake of her wash cloth in greeting. It was a small gesture, but one that visibly lifted his spirits. Katherine found it hard to imagine the pressure he must be feeling on stage, being so exposed to everybody while playing a complex instrument.  
She preferred to stay outside of the spotlight to analyze and observe from afar.

The young woman took in the patrons, the staff, and her boss below her and wished that she could call an establishment like this one hers someday. Katherine had often fantasized about how she would become a person of influence in the future. Not relying on looks like many women in her standing in Gotham did but on wit and her calculated planning. In this regard she had always admired Fish Mooney and had for this reason chose to work for her. Even though she was only a cleaning lady she had seized every opportunity to observe her boss and study her.

Fish was one of Don Falcone’s top lieutenants and embodied strength, cunning, and cleverness in harmony.  
Qualities which Katherine was striving for… Speaking of her boss, she saw how Fish and Oswald began to talk to each other. Perhaps it was time for a quick feedback talk about his first day at work. She didn’t pay much attention to it and decided to speed up her chore on the railing since she had obviously zoned out and missed the end of Oswald’s performance.

For a brief moment she looked up and saw Oswald leave with an umbrella. This reminded her not to forget hers when she was done tonight. Without further distraction she scurried along the railing to finish up. At the end when she was about to finish the last part she heard a faint yell coming from Fish Mooney below. Katherine perked up her ears and searched for the owner of the voice. In an instant she spotted Oswald and Fish having a talk. Again. They were too far away for her too hear, but their gestures revealed that Fish was agitated and Oswald offered his umbrella in response. A few more words were exchanged and both left the building.

During this moment Katherine felt various emotions.  
There was a tinge of worry and interest, because Fish had been behaving less than her usual relaxed self.  
She wished she could have followed them, but that would have been too obvious. Instead she decided to wait at her spot and watch the door in hope they would return soon.

Katherine used the moment to look around her floor to see if somebody would watch her or be suspicious if she didn’t do anything productive. But it was quiet and with some patience she did witness the two of them return to the building.

Oswald was very wet and Fish was entirely dry.  
Apparently he must have held his umbrella for her for the duration they were outside. Typical Fish, she made somebody else carry her umbrella, because she had enough lackeys to do it for her. The rest of their interaction concluded in Fish sending Oswald off and returning to the bar.

For now Katherine let her boss be and turned her attention to her remaining tasks. With some luck she might get an opportunity to gather more information about Fish’s moment outside and use it for her study to become a great business woman.

Katherine moved to the ‘entertainment’ rooms and noticed that no cleansing on her part was needed.  
The rain must be keeping lovers apart for tonight.  
Inwardly she rejoiced and carried her sanitation supplies downstairs to check if the offices and staff rooms needed attention. During her rounds she preferred to begin from the largest room and work towards the smallest. Therefore she went to the recreational room first.

Katherine entered and saw Mr. Alonso sitting at one of the round tables with a bunch of notepads and a binder.  
Two more stage hands were standing at the kitchenette with a beer in their hands and talking about one of the dancers.  
The name didn’t ring a bell and didn’t stir Katherine’s curiosity either.

She intended to greet the hardworking stage manager, but was hindered by his distinct command. “There!”

He pointed towards the floor next to him, but didn’t look up. “It’s very sticky. Please, wipe it up.”

The cleaning girl huffed slightly at his impolitely worded request and moved to the shiny red spot on the ground.  
A quick glance revealed it to be dried red wine.

The sheer amount puzzled her for a moment, making her wonder why somebody would pour their cup’s contents all over the floor. She let her eyes wander across the rest of the room and saw that various crushed paper cups were lying near the door. What had happened here? Was it something related to Oswald's comment, about being 'chased away'? She would have to ask him about it and thought that perhaps the stage manager himself might have witnessed something.

Mr. Alonso was probably not responsible for the stain.  
Not even he would be that awful to make a mess and then point it out to her.  
She was pretty sure that she didn’t occupy his thoughts enough to come up with a scheme like that. Instead she did as she was told and wiped up the dried wine and picked up the paper cups.

The girl and the boy standing at the refrigerator were drinking out of bottles, they weren’t probably the culprits either. Katherine returned to her routine and worked around the people who were staying in the break room. She mopped the rest of the floor, removed the trash, and wiped all horizontal surfaces.

During this time the two stage helpers left, being even kind enough to say a hushed “Bye!” into the room before leaving.

They might have addressed their boss sitting at the table, but they could have also meant it in general. Katherine did feel a little more hopeful in this case. Thinking about the stage manager, she had a sudden idea.

Turning back to him she asked, “Excuse me. Mr. Alonso?”

Conceited eyes raised towards her. “Yes?”

Katherine was already used to his condescending tone due to the fact that she didn’t have an ounce of artistic fiber inside her. “May I ask you a question? Regarding one of the dancers?”

The older man motioned her to continue.

The blonde moved closer to him. “It’s about Casey.”

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment.  
“Did she have a rehearsal last night?”

A serious expression grew on the man’s face. Katherine found she had discovered something she could not yet put her finger on.  
“I accidently walked in on her when she was changing in the break room. At that time I assumed nobody would be inside. Understandably, she was not amused about my intrusion…”

“You’re point being…?,” The stage manager interjected impatiently.

Katherine answered, “Well firstly, it was odd that she didn't change in the dressing room. Secondly, it would be nice to know if the rehearsal schedule for Tuesdays has changed.  
I would appreciate knowing if I can expect somebody after a certain hour. I’m afraid I sometimes forget to knock.”

She faked an awkward smile to pretend being the clumsy unthoughtful cleaning lady who is eternally grateful for the faintest of kind gestures.

Mr. Alonso seemed to evaluate his response and finally said, “I didn’t know she was here yesterday.”

Katherine hid most of her astonishment at his statement. However she wasn’t able to conceal it as he quickly flipped open the timetable of the current week and wrote Casey’s name with a question mark into the Tuesday slot.

The older man shut the binder roughly and said, “Thanks for telling me.”

Katherine was only able to utter a short “You’re welcome” as Mr. Alonso stood up and gathered his things.

It was obvious that the information the young woman provided caused him to hurry. Before she could say anything else the man had already left the room towards the door leading to the hallway.

Katherine smirked mischievously and felt a small thrill inside her at the prospect of tattling on Casey. It reminded her of a classmate in trade school who forced her to work on her homework by stealing her books. The instant Katherine had found a solution to hide them she ratted her out and confronted their teacher. Then it had been easy to prove that the girl hadn’t done her math homework and received punishment.

Unfortunately Katherine had received some of her own as the bullying girl took revenge by destroying the books she still had in her possession. This time she felt that Casey could do nothing to retaliate against her. The girl from her class had known her weakness back then.  
But the dancer didn’t care and didn’t know the cleaning lady on a personal level.

Feeling content, Katherine had an easier time moving on to the dressing room. She knocked and after a short while a male voice told her to enter. Opening the door revealed a middle aged man who was about to put on a casual jacket. Katherine recognized him as a coworker from the bar. If he was getting ready to leave, then she might be able finish up earlier as well.

Both exchanged a polite “Good Evening” towards each other, but went on with their activity. The dark skinned man put his red uniform jacket on a coat hanger and put it back inside his locker.

Katherine was in a good mood and felt a little more social than usual. “Is the bar closing up earlier today?”

The addressed man closed his locker and turned to the woman who was emptying one of the trash bins.  
“Nah, not really. But Richie offered to tidy up. Guess he needs the extra hour.”

Pretending to know the mentioned person Katherine added, “Might be...Or perhaps he’s being kind. Both are advantageous for you, I suppose.”

The barkeeper grinned at the younger woman.  
“True to that. Would be nice if someone did you that favor, right?”

The blonde shook her head slowly. “Not in my case. I do need the extra hours.”

The middle aged man stood quietly for a moment and put his hands in his pockets. Lazily he strode towards the door and looked over his shoulder as Katherine wiped at a smudge of make-up on one the locker’s surfaces.

“Then have a busy, but pleasant night Miss Cindy.”

The bearer of the unwanted nickname cringed, but thought that the bartender might have never heard her real name since he was so civil towards her.

She only said, “Thank you. Have a pleasant night as well.”

The older man tipped his imaginary hat and exited the dressing room. Katherine was alone again and sighed a little. It bothered her how that stupid nickname would sometimes get to her like that. The sound of it just made her think of an immature and stupid version of herself. She hated the image it caused in her head. Rapidly she checked for more unclean areas and decided that it passed her scrutiny. The hamper could wait for tomorrow since it only recently had been emptied.

Katherine quietly walked along the hallway to move on to the smaller rooms on her cleaning schedule.  
She passed a few stockrooms that were low maintenance for her work since nobody of the staff reported anything dirty in them. Just by force of habit she entered each one of them and scrutinized their state briefly. Katherine enjoyed these peaceful moments were nobody would disturb her walking through the aisles to see which products the house of Fish Mooney offered.  
It was one of her favorite aspects of the job to have the insight into the storage houses. Up to this point nobody suspected her of gaining intelligence about her boss’ business.

On the few occasions she was discovered she would always revert back to her good old ‘I’m cleaning something here’ routine and no further questions would be asked. She memorized what she discovered of course and put down some notes where nobody would walk in on her.

This evening Katherine stumbled upon a few crates that have been covered by linen cloth. Apart from the fact they had been pushed into a secluded corner she couldn’t remember seeing them a few days ago.  
There were four crates in total with yellow straw peeking out of the wooden boards. The cargo must be something fragile. The cleaning girl eyed her surroundings to make sure she wasn’t watched and quickly lifted the linen.

There were several stamps visible, making it clear that it was a shipment from France. Her first guess was wine when she considered the evidence before her. Too bad there was no possibility to open the box unnoticed to verify her theory. But upon deeper scrutiny she read a name.  
“La Tâche."  
Neither was she well-versed in French nor was she a wine connoisseur. So she had no other choice than to memorize the name and research it tomorrow.

Katherine swiftly restored the state of the linen covers and silently tiptoed away from the crates. As the blonde left the stockroom closing the door behind her she heard heavy footsteps coming towards her in the hallway.  
With practised nonchalance she pretended to remove a stain on the floor by vigorously rubbing a scraggly sponge at one spot. She hoped that she would raise less suspicion if her face was as close to the ground as possible. Also she was too nervous to look up to identify the person. Perhaps she could make an educated guess by the choice of his footwear.

Her tactic proved to be helpful and the man just walked right pass her without speaking to her. When the man had parted to a good distance, Katherine chose to pick up her things and call it a day. She was through with her schedule and didn’t think anything else would need care tonight. Otherwise the lady of the house would have already approached her by now.

With certain steps she returned to her chamber and prepared to take off. Donning her coat and headscarf she picked up her bag and strode out into the main hall. With slight trepidation she noticed that two dancers who were now wearing black and red serving dresses were standing at the bar. Katherine wasn’t too fond of being seen by them whenever she left to go home. This time only one of them gave her a dirty look since the other was having a light talk with the bartender.

The blonde hurried to the door as to not give either one of them an opportunity to say something to her. Katherine felt anxious and ashamed of fleeing, but she rarely knew any good retorts for the moments they made fun of her. Frustratingly enough all the good replies came when she was already miles away and when a lifetime had passed.

The rain had subsided outside causing her to think if it would even be worth it, to rummage around her bag to pry out the umbrella she brought. Rather she sped up her pace and made a fast walk to the subway. To improve her mood the blonde thought of Casey being reprimanded by Mr. Alonso.

Katherine was startled about his reaction at first, but knew that he wasn’t amused about the dancer’s unknown appearance that day. Obviously Casey hadn’t been there to spend her leisure time with extra rehearsals. Unless she needed the stage to practise for something in secret? Was she trying to get a different role or even worse...get a different job somewhere else and used Fish’s facilities for her gain? That would understandably sour Mr. Alonso’s and Fish Mooney’s mood. Maybe that was the reason for his abrupt departure to share his suspicions with her! There were so many possibilites! Most hopefully having bad consequences for the dancer.

Katherine might have felt a little awful for wishing somebody into trouble, but Casey caused only minor remorse inside her. Bullies had to be taught a lesson in her opinion. The turnstile effortlessly rotated away as Katherine pushed through. In the dry shelter of the station her train arrived and she felt relieved after she took a seat and waited for the vehicle to take her home.


	5. Red And Blue

Warning: Violence in this chapter

 

The night outside with Fish Mooney in the rain had changed Oswald’s perception of her. He knew that his boss was not the biggest fish in the sea, but watching the interaction between the gorgeous woman and the older man seemed to have strengthened that opinion of her. Oswald knew that in his current professional universe everything revolved around the older woman.

But witnessing THE Fish Mooney being an obedient and respectful servant had made him doubt if he chose the right workplace to get started in his criminal career.  
He tried not to show his boss that he had lost a smidge of respect for her and behaved as a loyal employee would. Also, even if Fish was only a lieutenant of Falcone’s there was a lot he could learn from her.  
His advantage was that she would let him get close.  
Holding an umbrella for her had been the first step.

So in the following weeks of his new employment, Oswald had done everything to prove to Fish Mooney that he was ‘the man’. Doing overtime, being helpful to Steve and Mr. Alonso, and studying Butch in his interaction with the staff was only the beginning of his efforts. The days at the club were long as he played the piano, did rehearsals, and executed performances.

Even the stage presence he was criticized for was gradually improving. But the lady of the house wasn’t entirely pleased. She had told him once that she reminded him of a sad little dog from her old neighborhood. Folks would sometimes feed it or kick it depending on their mood. The dog didn’t mind as long as it got attention, because it had been all alone.  
Fish liked to show how Oswald was on her leash, either by being beneficial or outright mean to him.  
Being picked on by her because of the shape of his nose, or his pale visage was one of the minor burdens he had to endure.

But if it helped him to be in her company more often he would use it to his advantage.  
Oswald showed initiative and put himself conveniently into Fish’s or Butch’s path to ask for more work, assist in any way possible, and ‘being there’ as a famous director once said. He was especially friendly and polite to make the intrusions on his behalf easier to tolerate. With this approach Oswald was able to slowly gain Fish’s favor and make himself available to her.

She welcomed the attention he gave her, letting him carry the umbrella for her on rainy days like a life size accessory. If his boss felt exceptionally dominant she demanded of him to massage her feet. Fish Mooney would reason that a pianist’s hands were strong and dexterous after all, made to please. At this Oswald had to blush and did as he was told with humiliation dwelling inside him. Throughout these hurtful times he was praying for his moment to rise in position. His moment where he’d be granted the access to the inner workings of Fish Mooney’s business. Patience was not his strongest suit, but for his greatest dream, a lot was at stake.

This tonight’s performance had come easy due to the rigorous practise schedule of Mr. Alonso. Oswald was on stage with a few more musicians who were basically freelancers for hire for the week. The big band performed some vintage swing songs that put the customers in a jovial happy mood. People were already dancing on the floor where the tables had been moved away for the occasion.

Classical nights such as these were rare at Mooney’s Night Club, to make them appear more exclusive for richer patrons. This particular act was a collaboration of Fish and Mr. Alonso to accommodate the party of a government official that had been bought by the Falcone crime family. The festivities were underway as Fish Mooney arrived with Butch in the main hall. Both were dressed impeccably and in a fashion that would fit the theme of the party.

Of course Oswald couldn’t make out where they were headed. He was way to focused on the keys of the piano to give them further attention. It was his assumption that they would be making their rounds and socialize with the powerful of Gotham.

The big band came to the end of their song and decreased the pace of their tunes. The audience slowed down in their dancing and turned towards the band to show them their appreciation for their music.  
All musicians felt incredibly flattered as the crowd began to applaud and whistle in rejoicing. Some louder voices could be heard that ordered them politely and impolitely to continue.

The calls triggered Mr. Alonso to walk on to the stage and patiently wait for a microphone to be handed to him.

His voice tinged with a light accent boomed, “Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, the big band and I thank you for your gracious display of approval! We would like to announce a short break for these talented musicians…”

Mr. Alonso’s gestured to the band behind him elegantly. Then he turned back to look at the crowd.  
“And have them return to the stage in half and hour for your entertainment!”  
The older man exuberantly added, “Please enjoy the drinks and canapés on the trays being served by our beautiful ladies! And have a great night!”

The audience roared happily again and saw Mr. Alonso off the stage. Then he returned to the ranks of Fish’s staff to make sure the celebration was proceeding smoothly. Oswald welcomed the opportunity to use the intermission to relax a little bit. His piano playing had made great progress with his piano playing skills, but still he made minor mistakes which were nearly inaudible for the layman’s ear. He wished that Mr. Alonso wouldn’t reprehend him too much.

Oswald beelined towards the exit of the stage and walked towards the hallway leading to Katherine’s chamber. He could have joined some of the band members in the break room or also experience the party, but he felt too tired to keep up appearances.

For now, he chose to drink some water in the small niche of solace he had found, then he would decide where to go next. Oswald arrived at the open door and saw that the room was empty. It made sense to him, since Katherine was expected to come to work when the celebrations were nearing their end. It would be a very early shift for her and he felt a little bad about all the mess she would have to clean up. Surely this night’s staff would deal with the lion’s share, but Butch was convinced that ‘Cinderella’ was able to remove any stain and offered Katherine some extra pay to clean up after the festivities. To Oswald’s surprise she had agreed without hesitation. He found her difficult to read in these situations, because she didn’t give him the impression that she was desperate for money.

The black haired man went to the shelf and took a bottle of water from it. Drinking a few swallows calmed his dried throat and he sighed with content. Oswald was glad that Katherine had agreed to let him use her cleaning room as tiny break room. It offered some respite when the pressure of his position was getting too much for him.

Sometimes they would encounter one another and exchange a few friendly words. He would make sure not to reveal anything sensitive about himself when they spoke and he would try to pry more information from her. Katherine behaved friendly and a little more talkative towards him, but often found reasons to break off a conversation when it was moving into a personal direction. Her favorite excuse was work. So in the time he had know her, he had only found out that she was living with her parents, had no siblings, and had a day job. But she had been very secretive about it.

Oswald mused that it might be something too embarrassing with him to share. Taking a few minutes to unwind he felt better and ready to give the party a try. He took his time as he emptied the bottle and placed it on the shelf. Then he returned to the hallway and walked towards the loud pounding sound of hundreds of feet walking, scuffling, and tapping in the main hall. Oswald was curious what the rest of the night had to offer.

  
The celebration had been a huge success judging by the amount of used glasses, bottles, and plates that were piling on top of the now empty tables. The staff was in the middle of clearing all surfaces when Oswald carried a tray full of dirty dishes to the cart near the bar.  
Carefully the cart was loaded from all sides before the busboy pushed it off to the room where the dishwashers stood.

In the meantime, Fish Mooney, Butch, and two strangers dressed in the chosen dress code of the evening sat inside a booth. The woman wore a long flowing dress with a slit to accentuate her long legs. The man wore a black bow-tie, white dress shirt, and tailored black jacket to fit his athletic shape. The small group was caught up in conversation about the events of the night. They were talking about the musical performance and apparently had enjoyed it.

Oswald’s interest in the friendly exchange grew and he sneaked closer by wiping down a table near their area. He turned his back to them to look less conspicuous.  
A few more sentences were exchanged, and the chinking sound of glasses could be heard.  
All of a sudden the woman in Fish’s company raised her voice as she pointed towards Oswald’s back.

She had interrupted her partner and turned to their host as she said, “Ooh, wait a second! Fish, is this the guy who was playing the piano?”

The black haired man stayed focused on the space before him picking up some napkins and strained his ears to hear what her boss was about to say.  
“Why yes, that’s him. He’s good, am I right?”

Butch took a short breath to audibly support the assessment of his queen when the brunette woman continued. “Yes! I agree! No denying it, but...but…”

The unfamiliar woman rapidly covered her mouth to suppress a fit of drunken giggles.

Her partner looked at her with a happy glint in his eyes and asked with a light french accent, “Patricia, did you possibly have too much to drink? Peut-être?”

Oswald was afraid of what might be said next, but he was too curious to walk away from the talk. He turned the chairs upside down and placed the seat on the surface of the round table to gain more time.

The brunette who held the attention of all in the booth waved off her partner’s comment and elaborated. “Tait-toi, Pascal! Don’t you see Fish…?”

This time the black woman was scrutinizing her guest carefully.

“Your piano boy looks like…”

Oswald instantly began to hate his choice to eavesdrop.

The woman hiccuped. “A penguin!”

The booth was quiet except for the low laughing noises the drunk woman made. A few seconds passed until everybody else joined in on her laughter. Butch scootched over to the female guest at their table and cheerfully gave her a big smooch on her cheek.

He exclaimed, “Thank you, Trish! Thank you! I was thinking about that every time I saw him, but I thought maybe I’m the only one who sees his beak like nose and his black and white attire...But you saying it makes it official! Ain’t that right Fish?”

The glamorous woman in question wholeheartedly confirmed it. “Seems we got a new nickname, Butch.”

Oswald was mortified! He put the last chair on top of the table and forced himself to walk away in a calm matter.  
It wouldn’t do him well to show he had reacted to their mockery. His face was already flushed red and he hoped that everybody was occupied enough to not notice the shame he felt.

The now red faced man contemplated what he should do next. Should he flee to his hideout and wait until all abates? Or pretend nothing was wrong and continue cleaning up? Oswald judged that deserting the premises would make a bad impression anyway and decided to help the rest of the staff. Some looked at him with a puzzled brow and others didn’t pay attention to him at all as they were caught up in their own tasks to get done as soon as possible.

As the hall became tidier the amount of staff thinned down as well. From the corner of his eye he could see Butch leading the two strangers to the back of the building where most of the offices and stock rooms were. Fish on the other hand walked over to the bar and ordered a White Russian from the last bartender who had served her and her guests drinks.

Oswald perked up his ears as his boss called him.  
His blush had subsided by now and apart from being a little sweaty from the performance tonight he nearly looked like his regular self. Fish patted the stool next to her and looked at the younger man deeply.  
He approached her and took a seat next to her obediently.

The older woman turned to the barkeeper and demanded, “Richie, make him a ‘Penguin Highball’.”

Oswald visibly flinched at the name and Fish grinned as she noticed it. Richie nodded and collected a bottle of Vodka, banana liquor, and Blue Curacao in front of him to prepare the drink. He poured all ingredients together and pushed the final light blue cocktail towards Oswald.

The black haired man hesitated to drink, but his boss insisted. “What’s the matter? Don’t like your drink?”

Oswald quickly took the glass in his hand and took a sip. The tartness of the lemon and lime juice cut perfectly through the heavy creaminess of the banana liquor.  
A tasty cocktail indeed, if the name wouldn’t be a cause of worry for the short man.

“No, Miss Mooney! I mean it’s tasty! Thank you, Richie, “ he said nervously.

The addressed man just shrugged his shoulders and was about to devote his time to another task as the bossy woman on the stool harshly interjected, “Oh no! You wait here, Richie. You just clean up and wait when you’re done. We need to talk.”

This caused the brunette young man to halt and tense up. He replied softly with a ‘Yes, Miss Mooney’ and stayed behind the bar. But his movements became a little shaky and his hands were beginning to flutter. Oswald hoped that the alcohol in his drink would settle his nerves and took a few gulps.

He was caught by surprise as Fish cleared her throat softly and spoke, “Oswald...are you ready to prove yourself to me?”

The younger man swiftly turned towards his boss and nearly jumped from his seat. “Yes, Miss Mooney! Your wish is my command!”

His gorgeous boss put the palm of her hand on his cheek and caressed him tenderly.

Then she gave him a light smack that made him jerk back in his seat. “Exactly what a lady wants to hear...Do you see the booth where I sat at?”

Oswald nodded.

“You will find a bottle underneath the table. Bring it to me.” Fish looked around to room to see if anybody else remained.

Two girls and a busboy taking care of the remaining trash were caught in her eyesight. With an authoritative tone she commanded them to leave. They obediently followed her demand. Oswald got up and strode towards the booth. While bending down he did see a bottle with a white label and red foil top which had been torn open. His hand held the bottle of wine steadily and his quick study of the label revealed that is was French. It was nearly empty. Oswald hurried back to his mistress and gave her the wine bottle. Richie wiped the sweat running down his face, but his expression only revealed that he was confused and didn’t understand what was going on.

As every employee of Fish he was ready to get reprimanded for something.

The older woman looked at the label of the wine and then placed the bottle in front of the barkeeper. “Do you recognize this bottle, Richie?”

The tall man examined the label and confirmed her question.

“And did you offer this one and two more bottles like this to one of our loyal patrons?” She began to hiss at the last consonant and fiercely looked at Richie.

The intensity of her gaze made him freeze up and stutter. It reminded Oswald of the legend of Medusa who could turn mortals into stone with merely a glance into her eyes.

“M-Miss Mooney, I d-don’t understand…”

Fish eyes flashed with hot anger and she grabbed the barkeeper at the collar of his red dress jacket. With a might Oswald didn’t know she had, she pulled the taller man over the counter crushing her White Russian and Oswald’s Penguin Highball beneath him and slammed the man on the ground before her. The younger man beside her jumped in shock and stared at the ferocious woman in terror. He had to remember to never get on her bad side!

Richie squirmed and grunted in pain beneath her as he tried to regain his breath from the force of the harsh landing. The brunette man was coughing violently and widened his eyes at Fish with dread.

“I. TOLD. YOU!” The scary woman placed stiletto on Richie’s chest. Her face had changed to an angry grimace.

“I TOLD YOU TO NOT FUCKING SERVE THE LA TÂCHE!”

She leaned on her foot causing the man even more pain by piercing his chest.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!” Fish held her position and waited for Richie to focus on her expression.

“This wine was hidden in the back of the stockroom for a reason!” The pain stricken man tried to speak, but Fish interrupted him harshly again.  
“YOU LET ME FINISH!”

She lifted her foot, swung her leg back and kicked him forcefully into the ribs. Richie screamed out in pain and fear. Snot and tears were beginning to run down his face. Oswald studied Fish and was oddly inspired by her display of power.

“I told you ONLY to serve the wine we had stored at the bar. So why did you get this wine?, “ she asked calmly and lowered herself to her victim’s level.

Fish made an expectant humming sound with her mouth. “Hmm? Tell. Me.”

She was about to stand up when Richie finally confessed, “I-I’m sorry, M-Miss Mooney...that old guy…”  
He regained more of his steady voice.  
“Offered me a good tip, if I brought him something special…”

Fish grunted in exasperation and stood very still, folding her arms across her chest.

The man lying on the ground was slowly picking himself up with shaking hands. “I didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

In this instant the older woman before him connected her fist to his face with a long strong jab. It caught the taller man painfully off-guard, pushing him a few steps back. Blood trickled faintly from the corner of his mouth as the injured man became restless. Richie took a step forward as he saw his boss taking a seat on a stool and crossing her legs nonchalantly.

His eyes widened angrily. “You...crazy...BITCH! I’LL-”

Fish interrupted him rudely with a cheshire cat grin on her face. “Oh, Oswald…?” Her voice sounding overly motherly. “Will you let him talk to me that way?”

The addressed man froze for a moment and he gave Fish a subservient look. “N-no, Miss Mooney.”

Her voice dropped deeply and she nearly growled. “Gooood… Then make him pay.”

Before Oswald could ask what she meant by that specifically, the other man had grabbed him by the shoulders to push him away from Fish. Richie was only half successful as the punch he had received from her caused him to sway with dizziness. Oswald half scared and half surprised pried one of Richie’s hands off him and twisted his wrist to make him let go.

This maneuver helped him to gain some distance between them and Oswald asked Fish in hysterically,  
“What do you want me to do with HIM?!”

His master twitched her eyebrows in surprise and casually said, “Oh, that's easy. Kill. Him.”

A mix of fear, adrenalin, and thrill rushed to his chest and his breathing became labored. His chance to demonstrate his potential had come! But he suddenly felt unprepared for it.  
A firm fist connected close to his collarbone and we was flung out of his musings. Oswald coughed from the pain and tried to focus on his attacker. The taller man was already injured, but enraged enough to pose a threat.  
He took another swing at Oswald and aimed for his face. The shorter man clumsily dodged it by moving his shoulder into the trajectory. Once again the ache put him off balance and made him tense up. Oswald didn’t have much experience with brawling and needed an idea to get the upper hand, before Richie recovered from Fish’s punch.

Not knowing exactly what he did Oswald threw himself at Richie to get close enough for a kick in the groin.  
He swiftly stepped to the side as the taller man was throwing another punch at him and used the opportunity to shoot his knee upwards to hit the other man’s privates. Oswald was successful and managed to smash Richie’s balls. Unfortunately the force behind it was not strong enough to put him down and he grabbed the shorter man with his left hand in order to box him into the abdomen.

Richie’s fist hit home and he would have rejoiced if Oswald hadn’t gotten sick this very instant. The blue tinged drink sputtered out of Oswald and showered his attacker. The taller man scared off in surprise and disgust, pushed the shorter man off from him.  
The black haired man lurched to a free standing barstool and leaned against it for a moment’s respite. Oswald had to think fast. He was convulsing from abdominal pain and saw stars in front of his eyes. How much time would he have until Richie had wiped off his eyes and found him weakened? His pain didn’t matter, Oswald wanted to win this fight.

Suddenly he heard this attacker’s steps coming closer and he decided to use the remains of his strength for one big attack. Richie was hit by the legs of the barstool which Oswald had swung towards him. The momentum of the rotation struck him in the head and the taller man immediately buckled. The brunette fell to his side and lay there bleeding heavily from his head. His body twitched strangely as the aftermath of the attack took a hold of him. Then Richie stopped twitching and lay there quietly.

Oswald wiped off his face with the sleeve of his jacket and scuffled over to see if the taller man was still alive. The adrenaline and the proud expression of Fish gave him a sense of triumph. Even if that meant taking another life. Shouldn’t he feel a hint of remorse? Perhaps, but it was overshadowed by the thought of the passage of his rite of initiation. Oswald studied the immobile body below him and he spotted Richie breathing very faintly. A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him. Did he fail Fish’s assignment?

The woman in his thoughts stepped around the mess that they have created and touched Oswald’s shoulder.

The younger man turned to her and she said.  
“Very messy. BUT, you made him pay. That's all that matters.”

He blinked a few times and tears welled in his eyes, the pressure of the last weeks slowly rolling off of him.  
His own voice sounded like a croak when it escaped his lips. “Are you p-pleased, Miss Mooney?”

Fish grinned mischievously. “You did good, my little Penguin…” Her eyes seemed to bore into his soul and she purred, “Oh, the things I will do with you…”

A tear rolled down Oswald’s cheek as a sense of belonging and achievement overwhelmed him.

 


	6. First Secrets

 

The young woman paid the cab driver around the corner of Mooney’s Night Club in the shadow of a brickstone building. She chose this place, because there was no street lamp that would have shone on them.

As the driver counted the money he asked the blonde, “Is your destination close? A pretty thing like you shouldn’t wander the streets at this hour…”

He looked up and down the street to measure the threat it pose. At four in the morning even muggers and criminals might think they’d rather sleep in.

Katherine was a little touched by the older man’s concern and responded, “It is very close. It will not even take a minute.”

The bearded man leaned on his car’s window and whispered gloomily, “Don’t even take a minute to snatch you up!”

His lips made a popping sound on the last consonant and the young woman before him flinched a tiny bit.   
She decided that it was time to go and quickly bid the cab driver farewell. Katherine sped towards the back entrance of the club and surprisingly saw Butch standing there. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, white shirt, and black vest. The party must have been more formal than she had imagined. As Fish's henchman saw her he waved in greeting and waited for her to approach him.

Katherine said, “Good Evening, Butch. What are you doing here?”

The burly man put his hands in his pockets and turned a round a little to motion Katherine to follow him.   
“Hello there! I came to pick you up to explain what I need you to do tonight.”

The shorter woman clenched her hands and dreaded what would be coming next. From experience she could tell that something had happened. The big man had only on rare occasions intercepted her on her way to her cleaning chamber. The realization made her heart drop. The wet and cold streets of Gotham had become more inviting than the warm hallway the two entered.

She clasped her bag tighter towards her side and asked Butch weakly but clearly, “How many?”

Katherine could feel her pulse increase as the anxiety for what was to come rose.

Butch answered in such a lackadaisical fashion that made the blonde shudder. “Just one this time. Not too messy.”

The cleaning lady sighed deeply and wished she had refilled her hipflask she had kept in her metal cabinet. Remembering the lessons of stoicism she put herself in a neutral mindset and followed Butch to her cleaning supplies.   
As they stood before the room Butch lingered outside and let Katherine in to get changed. She hurried and finally used a slim silver key from her keychain to open the metal cabinet. In there were several colored bottles with chemical warnings on them. On the lower shelves were light gray tarps neatly folded like big tablecloths. There was a notepad displaying a list with supplies that were either in the closet or had to be restocked.

She saw that the lab disinfectant was running out. “Butch.” The big man looked through the door frame. “Could you please make sure that your men pick up four canisters of laboratory disinfectant the next time they go to MERCH?”

He smiled at her question and raised an eyebrow in astonishment. “Yes, mam!”

Katherine rolled her eyes at his comment, but dismissed it with a small huff. She took the black gym bag, put it on the floor and checked its contents. The assessment revealed that she had enough goods to get the job done tonight. With a small swing she shouldered the bag and gave Butch the sign to lead her to the mess she was supposed to clean up. The odd pair walked down the hallway towards the main foyer. Katherine’s anxiety grew.

It sometimes angered her that she would let these incidents stir her emotions. Professionalism in any kind of situation had gotten her this job. But there was something very eerie taking place inside her whenever she had to make a mess of the evil kind disappear.   
She was very good at making a murder or homicide look like it never happened. And after some time it felt like it actually never did.

Katherine was shook out of her reverie as Butch halted and spoke up. “One more thing, Cindy…” He didn't look at the cleaning girl and just stared ahead.   
“Help Penguin get cleaned up too.”

The blonde looked at Butch startled. “Penguin?”

The taller man stood next to her as both of them accessed the main hall. He hinted towards Oswald who was sitting in a chair with his hands clasped around his head. Katherine's mouth dropped as she saw the picture before her. The counter of the bar was in disarray with broken glass, blood and wood splinters were scattered across the floor, and a person bleeding from their head lay a few feet away from the disheveled looking man.   
Butch merely turned to the young woman and said, “Enjoy.” Then he returned to the direction they came from and left the blonde. She reminded herself of the extra pay she would receive tonight and swallowed her frustration.

Katherine came closer and softly spoke up, “Oswald…” She eyed his sunken form. “Can you hear me?”

The young man slowly lifted his head and looked at the blonde with slight surprise. “Katherine..? Wha...what are you doing here?”

Oswald stared at her then at the body next to him and then back at Katherine.

She could see that he was becoming frantic.   
“Katherine! I-I-I can explain!”

He got up and approached the slightly shorter woman. She took a step back as the smell of sour banana hit her nose. What was the matter with all the blue sick?

His expression looked hurt by her reaction.   
“No...no! I don't want you to see this!”

Oswald pulled at his hair in trepidation. He was about to continue, but Katherine gently put a hand on his arm. The slim man flinched, but didn't move away.

“Calm down, Oswald. Tell me what happened. Take your time. I am here to help.”

The young man took a few rushed breaths and released them shakily.   
He smiled weakly and said, “Mi-mi-Miss Mooney had me punish this man for offending and antagonizing her.”

His hand gestured to the unresponsive bartender.   
“Also it appears that he has done something very foolish which caused Miss Mooney a great deal of distress. Sooo... I incapacitated him with a barstool...Miss Mooney said that I fulfilled her expectations, but she'll cut the new stool from my salary…”

A short laugh escaped him as if he had talked about a funny nuisance at work.

Katherine's eyes widened at his response and she averted her eyes before saying rationally,   
“Oswald...this man is dead. You. Killed. Him.”

The silence between them was almost tangible.   
Both kept their mouths sealed for nearly a minute.   
Then Oswald woke up from his stupor and appeared to examine the blood that was around him for the first time. There was some on his shirt as well. His hands clawed at the fabric trying to wipe the red spots away in a hurry. Sweat began to trickle from his brow and blue eyes jumped between the blonde and the dead man on the ground.

Katherine knew this look and reacted by gently putting her hand on his shoulder and looking at him kindly with her brown eyes.   
“Oswald I need you to take a seat in that booth over there.” The young woman pointed to a booth which faced away from them.   
“I will bring you some water when you sit down, alright?”

The black haired man gave her an incredulous look and asked, “What about...all this?”

Both looked at the mess he had caused. Katherine lightly tugged at his arm to lead him away and he let her. Shortly later he was sitting at the booth just as she had requested.

The blonde gave him an encouraging smile as she retrieved a glass of water and brought it to him. “Drink this. Please.”

Oswald obediently drank his fill, but moaned as he emptied the glass. Katherine saw how he held his stomach his face struck with pain.

Worried she asked, “Oswald! Are you injured? Do you need a doctor?”

Quickly he shook his head and responded. “No, I am merely hurting from the punch Richie gave me. I'll be fine.”

Quizzically Katherine looked him over once again and paid closer attention to the blue streaks on his clothes. “Does this explain why you're smelling like nasty bananas and your shirt being blue?”

Oswald's embarrassed face flushed and he looked away from the blonde.   
“I'm sorry...when he punched me...I…”

Katherine shook her head and held up her hand to stop him from elaborating. She gave his shoulder one last pat and smiled at him sadly. Then she walked back to the body and began to examine the scene before her.   
If Oswald hadn't been lying then the man died from the loss of blood from his head wound a short time ago without him noticing it. Determined she went to the black gym bag resting on a table nearby and opened a small side pocket. From there she fished out a hipflask and swiftly brought it to her lips. After taking two good swigs she put the flask back and opened the big zipper. Her dad's cheap whiskey way a constant companion during her darker cleaning routines. Now it had become a small ritual to prepare her for the unpleasant task before her.

With skilled practise she donned a mask, gloves, and white coat before spreading out the tarp at a clean spot close to the body. Was it strange that she felt more empathy for Oswald than for his victim? Bodies didn't elicit any emotional response anymore. It had become normal for her to rationalize the existence of the remains as empty husks that had to be cleared away.

Considering how brutally Oswald took this life she should be afraid of him. But she hadn't been afraid of her father then when he had killed 9 years ago. People could make you do bad decisions and bad things. Fish Mooney was especially good in luring people down the devil's stairway.

The alcohol made her relax as she eased into the routine of making this incident disappear. Firstly she dragged the person on to the tarp and began wrapping the body in to it. With experienced moves she tucked and fastened the former bartender into the folds of the stiff material. When the dead man was secured as a tight package she pulled at the edge of it and dragged it further away from the pool of blood. The rest was cleaned up in a very mechanical fashion that made Katherine feel detached from the space around her.

With odd relief she was thankful for the timing of the bartender's death. This extent of nastiness was manageable compared to the state of the last body Fish demanded her to take care of. When Katherine was done only a strong alcoholic odor and Richie's remains packed in a tarp and a few bags remained. She took in her handiwork for one last time and then put her white attire in another bag that would be disposed of with the rest.

Wiping the sweat from her brow she turned to Oswald to pick him up, but he had already left his seat a while ago to watch her. Katherine felt a small chill in the back of her spine at the thought of Oswald sneaking up to her without knowing.

He gazed at her tiredly and said two simple words that startled Katherine. “Thank you.”

He dropped his head to stare at his shoes and fidgeted with his hands nervously. “I apologize for causing this...mess and making you clean up after me.”

The blonde was speechless for a moment and then reacted out of habit. “You're welcome…”

Since the beginning of her employment at Fish's nobody had thanked her for the dark deeds she had performed. There had been praise which was awkwardly flattering, but no gratitude. The nature of the business didn't leave room for kindness and politeness. She appreciated Oswald's behavior and felt a little more at ease after the clean up. Katherine suggested that he clean up in the men's restroom and then come to her cleaning chamber to get a few substitute clothes. The young man agreed and was on his way to execute her idea.

In the meantime Katherine visited Butch's office to inform him about the remains that had to be picked up. The burly gangster acknowledged her short report and briskly instructed her to complete her chores. Usually his temper wasn't this bad, but the events of the night and the fatigue must be getting to him. Katherine left his office before he could say anything more to darken her mood. There was still Oswald to take care of and she preferred to send him home soon to have the place for herself to focus on her work.

She quickly went to the stockroom to grab one of the white dress shirts which they kept for the staff. Looking through them Katherine considered Oswald's size and briefly imagined him half naked for the sake of her guess. She blushed and reminiscenced about the last time she had seen a man in that state. There was a boy she had dated in her late teens, but quickly dismissed the thought when she remembered the circumstances of their break-up. There was no time to delve in the past now. Her sense of responsibility pushed the sentimentalities aside.

The man in her thoughts waited for her in her small supply room. He looked a little better now and sat on the small stool in the corner watching her with tired eyes. His hair was more tidy and the blue stains from his face were gone.

Katherine held up the white dress shirt for him and said, “I'm sorry if it is not the correct size. But it will do until you get home.”

Oswald was overjoyed and clasped his hands together in gratitude. “Thank you for your help. I wouldn't know what to do without you.”

Katherine's face flushed a light shade of red and she clumsily turned away to hide her embarrassment.   
“Here. Put this on and give me your soiled shirt.”

Oswald took the clean shirt from her.

“I'll let you change.” Katherine was about to leave his side as Oswald delicately held her arm to stop her.

“Katherine,...c-could we talk?” He released her arm and the blonde froze with a creeping sense of nervousness.

She stayed and turned to Oswald. He felt encouraged and asked, “For how long have you been doing this?”

Katherine was beginning to doubt if helping Oswald had been the right thing.

She folded her arms across her chest and replied defensively, “What do you mean?”

The black haired man fidgeted. “Are you a professional crime scene cleaner? How long have you been working for Fish? Did she make you do it?”

The blonde looked at him squarely. “Don't you think that is a little personal?”

Oswald ran through his hair with one of his hands and gave Katherine a needy look.   
“I apologize you're right. It's just...you saw me with a dead body and... you are hardly showing any irrational behavior! I expected something else.”

Katherine had to admit that he did have a point. She had coped with most of it by being professional and treating it as any chore she would receive. But also she felt sorry for him. He had run into Fish's trap willingly. Another one who had lost their innocence and chose a life of crime. Like her.

She considered what to say for a moment. “How come you are not... freaking out about killing a person?”

Oswald felt shoved into a corner. Defensively he retorted, “It was self defense! He was trying to kill me first! He was alive before you arrived!”

Katherine scoffed at him. “Well, you didn't call an ambulance either! You watched him bleed out.”

Oswald's expression grew dark. “You weren't there when it happened...I had to do it! Fish was watching me. I had to pass her test.”

The blonde sighed with resignation. “‘And the rest is rust and stardust.’ You appeared to have succeeded. And now there is no turning back.”

Oswald gave her a dirty smirk. “At least we agree on that… Besides I get the impression that you are in…deep as well.”

“What makes you think that?”

He raised his hand with outstretched fingers to count his arguments.  
“Number one; you dislike your colleagues. Number two; you clean crime scenes. Number three; why clean for Fish if you could clean for let's say...a fancy restaurant?”

Katherine averted her eyes from him feeling exposed by his observations. “Could it be that there is something you want from Fish?” She rolled her eyes slightly annoyed.   
“Ooh, so it's suddenly not 'Miss Mooney’ anymore.”

Oswald cleverly remarked, “Trying to change the subject won't help. The truth is plain to see.”

Katherine blushed with embarrassment and slight anger. “Everybody wants something from 'Fish’!”

The black haired man grinned. “True, but for you it isn't about money, is it?”

The blonde made an attempt to leave the room and said, “You should better get changed. You need to go home and I need to get to work.”

Again the black haired man held on to her.   
“Katherine, I will keep your secret if you keep mine. Nobody can know about tonight!”

She gave him an apprehensive look. “You don't even know my secret!”

Oswald retorted, “But now I know for certain you have one.”

The blonde looked disappointedly at him. “Do you always return kindness like this?! I thought you were different from the others working for Fish.”

Hurt and a shiny gleam invaded her eyes.   
Oswald quickly intervened and held his hands up in defense. “I apologize for overstepping your boundaries. My towardness was an attempt to discover a like-mindedness between us.”

This intrigued Katherine and she hesitated for a moment. “And what would that be?”

The man before her stepped a little closer.   
“A hidden ambition to achieve something greater. Something meaningful.”

His correct assessment made the hairs on Katherine's neck rise. It felt scary and good to have her deepest desire be unveiled like that.

She thought hard before saying, “What are you willing to do for your goal?”

Oswald didn't hesitate before responding, “Everything. If tonight doesn't prove it then nothing else will.”

Katherine sensed a dangerous opportunity. He had seen some of his true colors and was a little frightened by his willingness to kill if needed. But his determination inspired her as well, hers was trickling away with the lack of progress she had experienced during the employment at Fish Mooney's. Her carefulness had made her lose focus, but it had kept her alive as well. Was the risk worth it? Only one way to find out.

“Oswald, you might be right about sharing common ground.” Her brown eyes searched his blue ones.   
“But, how do I know you won't sow suspicions about me to advance your goals?”

“You don't. For sure. But I can assure you that I will keep your interests secret if you also do so with mine.”

It didn't take long for Katherine to consider.   
“Fair enough. I agree.”

Oswald nearly beamed at her. “I knew you could be reasoned with.”

The blonde smirked and said with good humor, “Now that we talked, please change your shirt. The smell is slowly making me nauseous.”

It amused her to see Oswald blush and squirm under her comment. He apologized a few times and began to unbutton his dress shirt as Katherine was slowly sauntering away.

She left him with one final comment. “I can imagine that you looked great tonight, before everything happened. Black and white suits you. And the cummerbund was a nice touch.”

She saw how Oswald bashfully smiled and left him to let him change. Katherine admittedly wasn't sure what to make of Oswald, but knew that she had to observe him even more closely from now on. Fish would surely show him the ropes of the dark side of her enterprise. Katherine wanted to make sure she'd be there to profit from Oswald's experience as well.


	7. Mother's Scolding

Rest hadn't come easy for Oswald that night. No position was comfortable enough to give him the sleep he desperately needed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see Richie attacking him, while Fish lurked nearby to watch his every move. The pain in his abdomen and collarbone were nevertheless present and reminded him that everything which had transpired last night had been real.

He remembered how Katherine had meticulously cleaned every space and corner around the area where the brawling had taken place. She even had removed all the splinters and shards which had sprinkled the counter of the bar. It was all gone. The only reminder being the ominous sanitary bags which held Richie’s remains. Would he have a proper grave? Or did Butch dispose of him like bulk garbage that had had to be picked up?

Oswald didn’t care about the answers. Richie had hurt the business and Fish’s respect. It was his fault for screwing up and angering the wrong boss. The entirely wrong boss. He would make sure to never be on the receiving end of her wrath or otherwise he would end up like Richie who would be wrapped up in a tarp by Katherine. This mental image nauseated Oswald and he was considering to use the bathroom for a moment.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the conversation he had with Katherine to divert him from the anxious and sick feeling in his stomach. She had surprised him by acting so relaxed in the face of the murder he committed. Perhaps her reaction had unconsciously helped him to stay more calm himself. Who knew what would have happened if she had walked in on him by surprise and threatened to call the cops?

Most likely the situation would have escalated and he would have to explain to Mooney how there would be more than one body to dispose of. Not mentioning the fact that Fish would probably be upset with the loss of a good employee. By his reasoning Katherine had been in her employ long enough to trust her with the delicate task of cleaning crime scenes. But what was she hoping to gain from Fish Mooney? He knew this was not a question he would be able to answer by brooding over it. It would take time and observation to figure it out.

There is also another option he just now considered. Could he just ask her? Her reasonable and calm behavior made it easy to open up to her, but it could also be a ploy to get more intel on him. Oswald decided to examine Katherine in the next few weeks to determine if her assistance could be helpful for harmful to him.

A knock on the door interrupted the trail of his thoughts.

By habit Oswald responded with, “Yes, Mother?”

An old melodical voice spoke through his bedroom door. “Oswald, are you well? You are in bed all this time… Are you sick?”

The inner child in Oswald reacted with a little annoyance by the overly worried nature of his mother.   
“No, I am fine. I will be out in a moment.”

This seemed to appease the elderly woman since she cheerfully exclaimed, “Good! I made you Főzelék. Will be done soooon!”

The voice walked away as it held the last vowel and quieted down. Oswald sighed and rubbed his sleep deprived eyes. There would be no peace and quiet now, his mother would see to that. The disheveled man got up and looked at the dirty clothes scattered on the floor of his room. He was glad that his mother hadn’t decided to come into his room while he was sleeping, or else she would have had a fit, criticizing him for the disorder he left behind.

Quickly he put on some pajamas, since he had been too tired to do so last night. Then he picked up the articles of clothing and shoved them under his bed. He would take care of his laundry at a time where his mother wouldn’t be hovering around him. She would surely ask him about the smell and some of the darker little stains on his jacket. Oswald dismissed the thought and chose some clean clothes from his wardrobe which he laid down on this bed. Something more casual would suffice for the remainder of the afternoon, considering that he would need to change into his work attire in a few hours anyway.

Stealthily he opened the door and peeked through the gap to see if the coast was clear. Sensing his opportunity he dashed towards the bathroom and rapidly closed the door behind him with an audible bang.

  
Having bathed and brushed his teeth, Oswald felt many times better and somehow restored to his former self. His reflection in the mirror revealed tired looking eyes, but not more than usual. That might be the benefit of having dark circles under the eyes, nobody would assume that he was sleep-deprived.

Unfortunately there was a mark on his skin which would be more difficult to conceal before his mother or even his coworkers. The punch he had received on his collarbone had developed a bruise which crept up his neck and stopped close to his larynx. It had turned into a lighter purple color which would be easy to spot in contrast to his paleness. The bathrobe he wore only covered most of the contusion, so that in order to cover it completely Oswald had draped a towel over his shoulders to conceal it.

After one last scrutinizing glimpse in the mirror, Oswald left the bathroom and went to the dining room to find his mother already setting the table. She saw him approach and put down her pot on the coaster before greeting him gingerly by giving him a light hug.

“Hello Oswald, I am happy you are finally up.”   
She gestured towards the vegetable cream soup and fresh bread she had placed on the table.   
“It is time for you to eat. Come sit!”

Gertrúd stepped away from him and took a seat at the table. With precision she filled a soup plate and handed it to Oswald who sat down across from her. Next she served a portion for herself and took a slice of bread from the basket. Her son eyed his food before taking a spoon and slowly guiding it to his lips. The lingering pain from his abdomen made it difficult for him to enjoy the freshly prepared meal. Oswald tried to hide his discomfort, and hoped that Gertrúd’s ever watchful eyes would not notice his suspicious behavior.

It took a few minutes before his mother spoke up. “Oswald, why do you not remove towel? You will only put soup on it.”

The younger man hesitated as he responded,   
“I’ll be careful, Mother. I am eating slowly.”

His mother looked at him skeptically, but let him be for the moment.

Only when Oswald ate much slower than usual did she continue. “You are being silly, my boy. Let me take it to bathroom if you like to eat.”

Her son quickly shook his head and replied,   
“No! That’s alright. Please, stay. You need to eat as well.”

Oswald wanted to slap himself after being so defensive. Now his mother would definitely examine his behavior and the towel more closely.   
“Oswald, you are being strange. Are you hiding something?”

Her brows furrowed as she slowly got up to near the squirming man. Oswald felt like his six year old self again who hid the dollar he’d taken out of his mother’s purse. He was upset with himself that he let his lie slip so easily. Today was not his day he mused as his mother pulled the towel from his shoulders. He would calm her when she began her tirade about the bullies again he decided.

But her reaction was unexpected when she opened her mouth in shock and became angry instead of teary eyed. Usually she would begin to caress his cheek and comfort him with a soothing voice, complaining about cruel people who should be punished on the spot for mistreating her dear son.   
This second she was mistreating him by giving him a superb slap on said cheek.

Oswald flinched less in hurt, but more from surprise and he called out shrilly, “Mother?! What has gotten into you?!”

He covered his cheek which would had turned a shade of red and watched his mother intently who had begun to pace and rant about the impious behavior of her son.

“OSWALD! How can you hurt your mother like this?! Running into the arms of a lady of the night! I always try to protect you from bad choices! But THIS?!”

His jaw dropped as he begun to understand her implications. “MOTHER! It is not what you think it is!”

“QUIET! Let your mother speak! Oh, how she already make you disrespect me! She put devilish mark on my poooor boy! Tis’ why you were in bed so long! It is your job! Attracting all the wrong women…”

Her voice had turned into a sobbing wail which became louder with every step she took. If Oswald hadn’t felt so mortified about her accusations he would have laughed about being attractive as a piano player. Generally it was assumed that musicians were always popular, but the stereotype appeared to be more lucky than him.

Oswald stopped her in her tracks and shook some sense into her. “MOTHER, LISTEN! I was not with a lady of the night! I don't even date! And I have told you I will be very late, because of the black tie event at the club, you remember?”

This made his mother slow down, but she accusingly pointed at the bruise lingering on his throat.   
“You lying! I can see where she put her lips on you!”

Harshly he retorted, “NO, Mother! Let me show you. It is a bruise I got from work.”

Oswald opened the top of his bathrobe to the extent of the size of the bruise. “Does this look like a hickey?!”

Suddenly he had an idea for a plausible cause which might appease his mother.   
“I helped carry boxes of wine from the stockroom.   
But one of them slipped from my grasp when I got it down from the shelf and I stopped its fall with my collarbone.”   
Gently he pointed towards the area of the bruise.   
“See how big it is? You were jumping to conclusions, Mother.”

After Gertrúd further studied his injury she settled down in a chair with a relieving moan.   
“Oooh, Oswald! I was sooo scared for you! Outside are many dangers, especially bad women! They steal and take me from you and then they spend all the money you hardly earned!”

She tenderly touched the red spot on his cheek.   
“I am sorry for slapping you, my boy. I should know that I taught you well! But…”

Oswald arched an eyebrow quizzically and held his mother at arm's length. “But?” Oswald repeated.

Gertrúd gave him a big smile. “But you do not know how a painted lady can trick you. When the time comes, Mama will choose a good woman for you.”

The younger man not able to take more of this humiliation shamefully intervened.   
“Mother! Can we please go back to eating lunch?”

He wiped his hand over his brow to push some strands of hair away and pleadingly looked at his mother.   
“Let us enjoy the rest of the afternoon, before I have to go to work.”

His mother’s happy tone returned to her and she responded. “Yes, yes! We eat!”

Both sat down and continued their meal with an air of comfort and leisure around them. Oswald even got used to eating and enjoyed the rest of his soup.

  
Mooney's Night Club looked already prepared for their evening customers when Oswald entered with confident steps. No hint remained of the wild party that had been held the night before. Also no visible hint of his initiation either. Butch sat close to the stool Fish had sat at during his brawl and he experienced a slight shudder through his spine as he reminisced. The big henchman gave him a knowing wink and he motioned for Oswald to come closer. The shorter man obeyed and inwardly rejoiced as Butch told him to go to Fish's office.

She had told him that Oswald had impressed her with his display of loyalty and intended to reward him for it.   
The man in question had to suppress his growing blush when he heard the praising words.

Butch ruined this moment by reminding him of the nickname Patricia had come up for him. “If I may give you a piece of advice, Penguin… Don't begin to relax, just because you earned a bit of her respect. You've been reliable up to this point. Don't let up!”

But the black haired man was not able to hear Butch's well meant words, instead he heard the distasteful nickname he recently had received.   
“Please, don't call me that, Mr. Gilzean.”

Butch just grinned at him and enjoyed pushing Oswald's buttons. “Ah...you know you can call be Butch. And what's not to like about 'Penguin’? It suits you well!”

The shorter man's expression turned apprehensive and he merely replied, “I don't like being called that way.”

A strict gleam entered Butch's eyes and he said with a deep foreboding voice. “Listen, Penguin. Fish and I happen to like it, so I don't care if you hate it. Because you won't get anywhere with that butthurt attitude of yours, got it?”

Oswald nodded and gave Butch a sour look. His cheerful manner dissipated with every second he spent with the annoyingly cheeky man. He quickly walked towards Fish's office and was looking forward to more civilized talk. Although his talk with Butch didn't go smoothly,   
he felt certain that his meeting with Fish would.   
Oswald imagined how he would remember this essential moment on his journey towards influence and power. This was just the beginning of his career and he promised himself to make use of every opportunity.   
Just like this one which was about to happen.

His feet knew the way to Fish's office and he gently knocked on her door to announce himself. A confident voice which made his heart skip a beat welcomed him inside. Her office was more lavishly decorated than Butch's and also included more expensive furniture.   
The size of the room allowed her to keep a small lounging area next to the desk and chairs. There even was a small bar nearby which was staffed during meetings with business partners and associates.   
He had been allowed to bartend during a gathering once, since all other bar keepers had been busy that evening, but it had not been a very fruitful experience for him.   
His conversation with Fish might change that.

Oswald closed the door quietly behind him and politely said, “Good evening, Miss Mooney. You wanted to speak with me?”

The older woman dressed in a petrol colored dress with red feathers on the shoulder straps pointed towards a chair opposite of hers. “Good evening, Oswald.”

The younger man felt exceedingly grateful for not using his new nickname.   
“I think it's time we talk about your future in my business. Playing my piano doesn't seem enough for you anymore.”

She roamed over him with her beautiful brown eyes and listened for an answer. “You are right with your assessment. There are higher ambitions to pursue than those of a club pianist.”

Intrigued she leaned closer to him and took in his slightly nervous form. Fish blinked slowly and put both of her hands on the desk to push herself forward even further. “Tell. Me.”

Oswald gulped and laid down the answer he had prepared during the last few weeks of his employ. It was a great lie with a big kernel of truth.   
“I admire your strength, your intellect, and your power, Miss Mooney. You are an incredible woman who is in control of herself and everything around her. I see greatness which I want to follow and serve. With your blessing I might experience some of that greatness myself.”

Fish’s eyes widened in awe and bewilderment as she said, “Damn, boy. You got big words for a man your size! So enough with the fancy and let’s talk business!”

She crossed her arms across her chest and expectantly looked at Oswald to let him elaborate. He in turn was overwhelmed with the situation and didn’t know what to say to win her over.

It would be another struggle he would have to get out of. “Didn’t my recent actions prove that I am worthy of becoming your servant?! You said that I have pleased you. What did you mean?”

Fish clapped her hands together in realization and snapped her finger at him.   
“Now we’re getting somewhere. You think that you’re worthy already? No, we’re just getting started.   
You wanna do the real job, you gotta show me more than that!”

Oswald was shaking with emotion as he said,   
“But I KILLED a man for you!”

She held up a finger and hissed at him.   
“SHUT UP! I told you I don’t like this whiny bullshit! There’s always a guy who is willing to kill for me.   
Last night proved one thing though! That you can obey! Now don’t ruin all your hard work up to this point.   
You got to be in it to win it!”

The younger man slowed his breathing and forced himself to calm down. With hurt in his voice he admitted, “I think...I begin to understand, Miss Mooney.”

“That’s right! That’s what I want to see more of! Keep your cool and you’ll become somebody around here.   
But behave like a little spoiled brat and I treat you like one.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “And know that I HATE spoiled brats!”

Oswald pressed himself deeper into his chair in hope that it would swallow him and make him disappear.   
“I apologize for my behavior, Miss Mooney. I’ve been disrespectful.”

Fish leaned back slowly and brought her long fingers together in a plotting gesture. “Good. I knew you’re a learner. I know you want to get more busy around here. So I will give you a chance.”

At this Oswald’s face lit up and made him ignore the shame he felt. “Because I don’t invest in lost causes. Now be a good boy and work the bar tonight. I need you in shape for a meeting I’ll be hosting later.”

The younger man got up from his chair and folded his hands in gratitude as he bowed deeply in front of Fish Mooney. “Thank you, Miss Mooney! For not dismissing me for the disappointment I caused! I will be better from now on!”

His boss only arched an eyebrow and responded,   
“You will be. I expect hard work from you!”

Oswald creeped towards the door and bowed himself out of the room. “Yes, Miss Mooney! I will be the perfect bartender for tonight’s meeting.”

With these words he departed her office and slowly shut the door. Oswald took a few big strides to be out of ear shot. Then he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket to wipe the nervous sweat he developed on his brow.   
This woman was a force of nature that put him at unease every time he wasn’t prepared for it. Determined he headed for the main hall where he would study every cocktail that might be served at tonight’s meeting.   
The embers of Oswald’s ambition began to grow.

 


	8. Mystery

Katherine was studying a slim book on the counter of Mr. Parkins store as he said his goodbye to depart and attend his appointment. The blonde returned the sentiment and picked up the book to put it in the shelf behind her.

Today was not like the regular work days at the bookstore. Usually she would work in the back office to examine his taxes, accounts, and his cash flow for the bookkeeping she was assigned to do. The data, numbers, and documents filled her with joy as she put everything neatly together. The best part of it was the laundering she got to oversee. But Mr. Parkins had requested that she watch the storefront for the duration of his absence. Katherine did mind, but decided to give him the chance if it meant more business opportunities for the Sullivan crime family.

They could show their appreciation of initiative quite generously. For now, the blonde sat on a stool behind the counter and looked outside the store window.   
The sky was overcast and gave the place a gloomy tinge.   
Only the orange light emitting from the lamps offered a warmer tone for the eye. It suited the rustic interior and enhanced the brown shiny gleam of the shelf coating. Katherine let her eyes wander over to the display case which featured a best-selling biography of Gotham’s mayor Aubrey James.

His story or rather his ghostwriter’s was one of those hidden self-help books that proclaimed the American Dream in all its nostalgic glory.

‘Work hard, work harder, work the hardest!’ was one of his favorite quotes.   
Of course it deliberately down played his social status and wealth of his family that helped him rise to power.

Katherine had read most of the books in her boss’ store and easily admitted that the mayor’s biography had been utmost trash. His youthful promises of making Gotham a ‘better place’ had proved to be lies to sway the public all along. There was a time in her life where she believed that honest men and women could turn all the bad around, but she had learned from her parents that only the tough, the cunning, and the strong were able to make change happen. Gotham was this kind of place that squashed the innocent and the weak beneath its bootheel if they didn’t know how to survive.

It sounded harsh and cruel, but Katherine also believed in the city’s potential. The amount of raw energy that could be harvested and shaped into something marvelous was there, but only the crime lords got a glimpse of it.   
She wondered why Don Falcone hadn’t been more creative and changed the face of her home. Had he become weak with age and was not up for the task to seize power from his competitors? The disappointment was sometimes clawing at her and she wished for someone else to take the stage, someone who she could admire for creating a new future. In her most euphoric day dreams she imagined that someone to be her, but she had to accept that she didn’t know how to become number one in Gotham.

Her plan to get closer to her ideal image entailed to achieve power through money, and that was something she understood. When she graduated from trade school, she promised to become the best bookkeeper money could buy. She would become indispensable to those who wanted even more money, because she knew how to multiply it. Her recent career path had led her to the employ of Mr. Parkins who in turn worked for the Sullivans who in turn worked for the Falcones.

Katherine would continue working until she seized an opportunity to work for somebody else who offered more of everything. But it has only been a few years since she started working in this business. Experience would lead her to success she mused. In these quiet moments she thought about her mother who taught her everything about math before she began with her studies. Without her guidance she might never have stumbled upon this hidden passion of hers. The stillness inside the store was very gratifying for Katherine.

It offered some down time in comparison to the eventful past days. Since the street in front of the store appeared to be empty, she didn’t expect any customers to walk in so soon. The blonde stroked the polished wood of the counter and felt content to have found a small safe haven within Mr. Parkins’ store. It had always soothed her nerves when she surrounded herself with books that she had loved to read. She eyed the other parts of the counter and touched the old fashioned metal cash register. Not a good choice for security reasons, but something modern would have ruined the picturesque feel of the store. Luckily for Mr. Parkins’ nobody would dare to rob the antique book shop. The Falcones appreciated the vast collection of books it held and protected it with their word.

Katherine looked to her right and saw the black rotary dial phone she had used a few times. A sudden idea came to her mind after examining the phone a little longer. She retrieved her small notepad from the office in the back and flipped it open to find the number she had copied from the note in Casey’s locker. Excited she looked over the numbers again and picked up the handset. Quickly she put it back down and reconsidered. Would she just listen to the speaker or actually respond and pretend she would be somebody else. She could always pretend to call from the bookstore and make up an order they have placed. Having a good lie in place, she picked up the headpiece once again and dialed the number. Feeling giddy about somebody picking up she listened intently for the voice of the callee.

She yelped in surprise as a loud mechanical voice broke off the first ringing tone by announcing, “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” Katherine hung up the phone in disappointment. How thrilling it would have been to find out Casey’s secret contact.   
She would have to try another time in hopes of solving this little mystery. In the meantime she would just read one of her favorite books to pass the time before   
Mr. Parkins returned.

The sound of the tiny doorbell shook her out of her reverie when a customer entered the store. It was a short older woman with blonde grayish hair, wearing an old fashioned lavender colored dress. The short jacket she wore concealed her arms which ended in net arm cuffs. She curiously walked from bookshelf to bookshelf to take a look at the titles. Whenever one appeared to intrigued her, she pulled out an antique looking pair of spectacles and read the title carefully. Katherine wasn’t sure if the old lady was a returning customer since she spent the most time in the back away from the customers. She would have to ask her boss later to make sure.

But in this instant Katherine pulled herself together to treat the strange lady with patience and kindness.   
“Good afternoon, welcome to Mr. Parkins’ Bookstore. How may I help you?”

She remembered to emerge from the back of the counter and even took a few steps towards the older woman. Good, she was slowly remembering her slumbering social skills.

The elderly woman turned to Katherine and asked, “Oooh hello, my dear! Are you Mr. Parkins’ new worker? I only met him before.”

The younger woman immediately noticed the foreign accent and became intrigued by it, because she wasn’t able to place it.   
“Ah, I am Mr. Parkins’ employee, yes, but I am not new.   
I only work in the office most of the time and therefore not in the front of the store.”

The older woman looked at her with light surprise.   
“Oh! A pretty girl should welcome customers more often! No need to be shy!,” she chided playfully.

Katherine blushed a little and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for the compliment, but I am actually in charge of bookkeeping so I need to be in the back quite often.”

The older woman’s face lit up with awe and curiosity. “How...nice. It is wonderful to have your own space to work. I was a cook and a very good one! Being in charge of the kitchen was very nice. And since I was employed at a noble family it was enough to pay bills for my boy and myself.”

Katherine asked impressed, “You raised your son in GOTHAM on your own? That is an incredible feat in itself!” She eyed the blue eyes of the woman.   
“I am sorry if I sound rude, but you do come from somewhere far away, am I correct? Would you please tell me where your accent comes from? I find it very interesting, but I cannot place it.”

The blonde had the impression that the older woman was very delighted to share her story.   
“I am happy to hear you ask. I come from Hungary long time ago and moved to Gotham to find good job.   
I cooked for rich families, and they loved my cooking.”

“I can imagine it very well. My father is a cook himself and he enjoys preparing food for others greatly. Sometimes I wish he would cook less at home, because then I wouldn’t struggle with keeping my dress size.”

The elderly lady gave her a knowing wink.   
“Ach, a woman can have a little extra here and there to add a little more…’segg’.”

She waggled her eyebrows mischievously and laughed a little dirty at her joke. Katherine didn’t know the meaning of the hungarian word she used, but was amused nonetheless about her customer’s cheerful behavior. The older woman had a friendly personality what made talking to her easy.

She introduced herself, “I am Gertrúd Kapelput. Nice to meet you…” and held her hand towards Katherine.

The younger woman shook her hand and responded, “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Kapelput. My name is Katherine Crowe.”

The grip of the older woman was stronger than expected and she briefly interjected, “I am Miss Kapelput.   
My son’s father died before we could take the vow, but please call me Gertrúd.”

“Thank you, Gertrúd. Then please call me Katherine.”

The elderly woman gave her another warm smile.   
“I can see why Mr. Parkins has you here.”

The younger woman remembered why she approached her customer in the first place, but now it was nicer to address her by name.   
“Gertrúd, I apologize for holding you up. Was there something you were looking for?”

The older lady bashfully replied, “No, no, my dear. I have lots of time. I want to buy a book for my son. A present for his success in his new job.”

Katherine found the thought endearing that someone’s mother was looking for a fitting gift to celebrate their good fortune. She would put more effort into her customer service today, and so far it had been a pleasant experience.

“Then let’s try to find something he might like.”   
She stepped closer to the nearest shelf.   
“Does he prefer fiction or nonfiction?”

“I think something with great story would be nice.”

Katherine acknowledged her response and continued. “Does he like classical tales or modern ones?”

This time Gertrúd’s reply came even quicker.   
“Classics are a good choice.”

The blonde lead the elderly woman to a bookshelf deeper in the back of the store. More lamps hung from the low ceiling and cast everything in an orange hue.   
She arrived at the rack she was looking for.

“Alright, Gertrúd. My next question is, does he like Adventure, Romance, or Mystery books?”

Once more the older woman made a clear choice.   
“Ooh, Mystery is something he always loved. This is a fun game, Katherine!”

Joyfully the blonde said, “We are getting closer and closer. I think I might know what he likes. Has he read ‘Sherlock Holmes’?”

Gertrúd’s face looked very pleased. “Yes, you are right again. How did you know?”

Katherine modestly replied, “It’s a great story, most who like Classics would read it. But since he knows Doyle’s works already…”

The short woman grabbed a small ladder nearby and carefully stood on one of the upper ledges.   
“Perhaps this one is a good choice,” she said as she pulled the old book out of the shelf.

Katherine handed the book to Gertrúd and explained,   
“It is a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s detective stories. Many assume that the author of ‘Sherlock Holmes’ invented the genre, but there is very strong proof that Poe was responsible for it.”

The older woman happily proclaimed, “I will give him this book! I am sure he didn’t read it yet.”

She turned to Katherine who had put the ladder away. “Thank you, for helping me choose a book for my son.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope he likes it,” added Katherine.

The two of them moved back to the front and stood in the middle of the store.   
“Would you like to get anything else, Gertrúd?”

The addressed woman shook her head lightly.   
“No, thank you. This is what I need for today.”

The younger woman nodded and returned to behind the counter. “This book will be 14.00$, please.”

Gertrúd pulled the money from her purse and handed it to Katherine.

“Thank you.” She put the money in the cash register and procured a small paper bag from the bottom of the counter. Firstly, she put the receipt inside the book, and then put the book inside the bag and gave it to Gertrúd.

“Thank you, for shopping at Mr. Parkins’ today. We hope you enjoy your purchase.”

The sentences she usually would recite with a monotone and bored voice, came over her lips much easier today.

Gertrúd accepted the paper bag happily.   
“I enjoyed our talk today. Most do not take time to talk with old woman like me, but you are a nice girl.”

The young bookkeeper couldn’t repress a small smile.   
“It was a pleasure to talk to you. Please come by again.”

Gertrúd took a few steps towards the door and said,   
“I will! Then I tell you how my son likes his present.”

The two women waved at each other lightly and briefly said goodbye. The blonde watched the older lady leave and followed her shape behind the store's glass for a few moments until she disappeared from view. She thought about what kind of son would receive the book and if he would be grateful for it. Already she was looking forward to hear from Gertrúd again.

 


	9. Small Talks

The dim light in the tiny office began to hurt Oswald’s eyes as he was hunched over a timetable of Fish Mooney’s schedule. The rickety office chair creaked as he leaned back and put his palms on this eyes.   
He exhaled his deep breaths smoothly and used this moment to refocus. The list of tasks for tonight appeared to be endless as Fish and Butch remembered more and more items to add.

Perhaps he should consider placing a bedroll on the floor for an hourly nap. His mother might have to get used to not seeing him at all anymore. The image of his sad and lonely mother hurt his heart and he immediately erased the thought. There would be opportunities to spend more time with her again, but it would take a while before he got used to his rigorous new position as Fish Mooney’s umbrella boy. He would never introduce himself with that title, but that’s what she enjoyed to call him. His service did include carrying around her umbrella for sure, but he knew that it entailed so much more.   
He was his second pair of eyes and ears in every meeting they both attended. If his boss missed a tiny detail he would remember and remind her of it. Not that Fish hadn’t an excellent memory, it was only the simple fact that two pairs of eyes and ears witnessed more than one. And that had come in handy for Fish.

So Oswald accepted the petty names they’ve given him and took it as part of his challenge to become a tougher person. But his emotions always had their own agenda and his temper would get the better of him if he wasn’t careful around Fish or Butch. The burly man had spread his ‘endearment’ for him which unfortunately had appealed to his coworkers. Oswald would grind his teeth at the sound of somebody addressing him as ‘Penguin’ and he would lash out at them if his standing allowed it. There were some people who didn’t call him that distasteful name and for that he was silently grateful.

Among them was Steve, the stage techie, who had by now preferred to call him ‘Ozzie’ like one of his favorite music idols. And Katherine, of course, who had a strong aversion against all kinds of nicknames, especially including the one she earned in Fish’s employ.   
During stressful moments he likes to remember how she helped him overcome the mess with Richie and his initiation. She had been patient and oddly understanding towards his predicament. He considered her a befriended coworker, but wondered what she considered him to be.

Nevertheless it would be appropriate to offer her his assistance if she ever needed it. He would return her kindness and be free of his debt to her. Oswald devoted his attention back to his assignment and annotated the schedule as he was instructed. A strong short knock drew his attention as the bearded face of Mr. Alonso greeted him in the open doorway. He developed the habit of keeping his door open since it made the activity in his office look less inconspicuous.

The well dressed man stepped inside the small room as Oswald motioned him to enter. He stood up from his chair and said, “Good evening, Mr. Alonso. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

The older man with salt and pepper colored hair approached him. “Good evening, Oswald. There is urgent business to discuss regarding the dancing act tomorrow evening. I have been told to involve you in the planning.”

The sitting man gave him an approving nod.   
“Yes, that is correct. Please, take a seat, and tell me what is on your mind.”

Mr. Alonso eyed the old uncomfortable looking chair in front of him and politely took a seat.   
“I am afraid that the performance of the dancers has to be rescheduled. One of our most experienced dancers is...ill and will not be available tomorrow night. There is another backup of course, but it will take another day or two to rehearse the routine.”

Oswald noticed the break explaining the circumstance of the dancer. He wanted to know what the stage manager was not willing to share.

Mr. Alonso twisted the corner of his moustache in contemplation. “I was wondering if you would be willing to perform tomorrow night as replacement. I am aware that your piano playing schedule has been reduced to accommodate the new responsibilities you have taken on, but...you would do us a great service by doing this.”

Oswald considered the request. “Has this been run by Miss Mooney? She is aware of your solution?”

The older man nodded firmly. “Of course! I inform her about any notable detail.”

Oswald put the nearly insulted man at ease.   
“I have never doubted it. I would only need to notify Miss Mooney that I will gladly help.”

The stage manager’s face lit up in genuine gratitude. “Thank you, Oswald. I appreciate the gesture. And I will write it down in the related time slot in the binder.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Alonso. I’m glad I can help.”

Oswald gave him a friendly grin as the older man exited his office. When the man was outside hearing distance, he sighed and made a note in his own calendar about tomorrow night. He had hoped to leave a little earlier to have a late dinner with his mother. But it would have to wait for another time. Tiredly he got up from his chair again and stretched. A quiet popping sound could be heard from his back. A little worried Oswald examined his chair again and contemplated if he should just use his own salary to buy something decent.

He stepped around his desk and departed from his office. As he was walking to Fish’s office he thought of asking Steve if he had heard something about the sick dancer. Mr. Alonso’s reaction about it had been odd which made him want to know why he had been so secretive about it. Shortly later he was knocking on her door, but not receiving a response. He waited for a moment and knocked again only to discover that she was not in her office. Oswald assumed that she might be lounging around at the bar having a talk with some late night customers. He turned on his heel and headed straight for the main hall.

On his way he passed the performer’s rooms which were now less busy. In the spurt of the moment he entered the break room to see if the stage technician was there. It appeared that all were busy elsewhere, since the redhead was nowhere to be found either. However he did hear some bustling coming from the dressing rooms, but he decided not to investigate it. Most of the staff found him creepy and he didn’t intend to strengthen their image of him by peeping through the hole.   
As he left the break room, he noticed Katherine moping a section of the floor not too far from him.

Slightly surprised by her sudden appearance he walked up to her to have a casual conversation. Also by chance she had heard something about the rumor regarding the sick dancer. The cleaning girl heard the clacking sound of his new shoes and took a break from her task.

Katherine spoke first as he neared. “Hello, Oswald.   
I haven’t seen you around for a while. You have your own office now, correct?”

Did he catch a little bit of envy there for an instant? “Hello Katherine, it’s a pleasant surprise to see you again. I do have the office, but it is very tiny. I think it might fit into your room.”

The blonde huffed a little unlady like. Oswald thought that it might not have been the most elegant thing to say.

“Well, seeing that you have become, I dare say, even busier than me warrants your own room I suppose.   
You have recovered very well from your little mishap.” Oswald furrowed his brow in slight irritation.

He wondered if he had encountered Katherine in a bad mood and pondered how he could gracefully pull himself out of this conversation.   
“I think it was possible due to your help. Thanks again for that.”

This display of recognition of her efforts appeared to have calmed the waves.

Her demeanor changed. “You’re welcome...I am glad you made it through.”

Oswald felt touched by her kind remark even though she averted her eyes when she said it. He thought it would be a good moment to move the conversation to today’s mystery. “By the way…”

Katherine seemed to welcome the change of topic.   
Her brown eyes widened in attention. “Have you heard of one of the dancers being sick? Mr. Alonso approached me about it, to ask if I could perform instead.”

If curiosity would emit light, then Katherine would burn as bright as a fire. “I heard about it. I even know who it is.”

She grinned a little too widely when she said it and Oswald knew immediately who she meant. “Casey,“ Oswald deadpanned.

The blonde in front of him sighed annoyed.   
“Oswald! It would have been more fun if you had guessed!”

“In your case it wasn’t a challenge at all. Even a little anticlimactic. Who wouldn’t be happy about their tormentor being ill?”

Katherine shrugged. “I guess you’re right. But admit that you felt a little schadenfreude as well!”

The young man looked slightly confused. “Schadenfreude? Is that even English?”

“It kinda is.” He arched his eyebrow in disbelief.   
“Or more accurately, it is a German term, but it has been adopted to our English vocabulary. It means to experience joy at the misfortune of others.”

Oswald chuckled and made a mental reminder to memorize the word. “Very fitting. And yes, I admit to feeling a sense of relief. But what has happened to her?”

Katherine shrugged her shoulders again and slowly devoted her attention back to the floor. “That I do not know. But maybe you’ll figure it out and tell me? Pretty please.”

Oswald was amused by her alternating behavior and responded, “It’s the least I can do for a friendly coworker.”

The cleaning girl gave him a nice smile and saw him off with her last words. “Thank you. And good luck to solving the mystery! See you around.”

He gave her a small wave and headed towards the backstage area where he would surely find Steve. As he entered through the metal double doors he could already see him rolling up a cable drum. The stage technician was listening to some loud music from his earphones when Oswald approached. The shorter man moved his hand into the taller man’s range of vision to get his attention.

The redhead noticed him and took off his headphones. “Hi, Ozzie. What do you need?”

Oswald studied the tired man who had probably been up and running for hours. “Hello, Steve. I was wondering if you could help me out. I need to know if you saw something unusual in the last few days? Regarding the dancers?”

The taller man eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

Something indeed had happened to give him that look. “Has Casey been behaving odd recently?”

There was a moment of silence before Steve felt comfortable to answer. “I don’t want to get her into trouble, Ozzie. I think she’s having a rough patch.   
And everybody goes through one from time to time.”

Sometimes Oswald wondered how such a decent and friendly man like Steve ended up in Mooney’s Night Club.

Almost reluctantly Oswald said, “I fully understand.   
Don’t feel like you have to share it. It’s just that…”

He almost felt bad for tricking Steve into becoming more talkative. It felt easy to lure him. “What?,” the redhead asked.

“Katherine and Casey have this ongoing conflict and Katherine asked me to ask you if she were somehow responsible for her...discomfort.”

Oswald’s watchful eyes watched the stage technician’s expression. “I don’t want Katherine to feel bad… So I had to ask.”

“Who is Katherine?”

The black haired man rolled his eyes impatiently.   
“The cleaning lady!”

“Ah! I see! But you can tell her that I don’t think she’s responsible. Whatever Casey is going through is much worse. Even saw her cryin’ and felt bad for her.”

Oswald had to suppress his triumphant grin in front of the clueless man. “I am very sorry to hear that. I hope she will get better very soon. And thank you for being so honest with me.”

Relieved the redhead turned back to his cable drum. “Sure, anytime.”

Oswald left him as he put his headphones back on and listened to his feral music. The conversation with the stage technician yielded some vital information.   
Firstly, Casey was most likely not physically ill, and secondly she was in some kind of distress that made her depressive and thus incapable of working. Before he sought out Katherine to tell her about the information he discovered, he looked for Fish in the main hall.

As expected she sat at the bar with Butch, involved in some kind of small talk. As he approached, he saw the burly henchman recognizing him from afar and greet him with his awkward nickname. Oswald assumed that Bunch had been drinking more than usual this night.

“Peeeenguiiiin! My man! How ya doin’?”

Fish rolled her eyes at him in a humorous gesture.

“Good evening, Miss Mooney, Mr. Gilzean.”

The big man laughed jovially. “I told you to call me Butch, little man! Mr. Gilzean is my pop!”

“Ok...Butch.” Oswald smiled with a little embarrassment.

He turned to Fish. “Miss Mooney, I am here to ask your permission to perform tomorrow night as replacement for the dance act.”

His boss eyed him approvingly. “You may, but keep it a little shorter. I need you for the bar afterwards.”

“Yes, of course, Miss Mooney,” Oswald replied. “I will prepare accordingly.”

The lady of the house dismissed him curtly because wanted to continue her talk with Butch without his attentive ears. He was just content that their exchange had been brief, but satisfactory. It was time for him to return to his office to finish the rest of the paperwork for tonight. If his endurance allowed it, he might also work ahead to compensate for the lack of office time tomorrow.

The young man swiftly returned to his office and sat at his desk to continue working. At this quiet hour he hoped that a certain blonde would drop by for a visit to distract him from his boring chores. But alas he stayed alone and only had his wishful thinking to keep him company.

 


	10. The Transformation

It was very late when Katherine mopped the floors around the bar where an hour earlier Butch and Fish had sat. Her movements were a little more erratic than usual as the frustration from Fish’s request had begun to resurface. She wished that she had avoided Fish entirely, but there was no helping it if she was instructed to clean the stains on the floor right next to where her boss had sat.

Katherine replayed the scenario in her mind. She had agreed to take on more work from Fish, because she had plausibly explained to her why her help was needed. Apparently with the absence of the former bartender, who had been killed by Oswald, Casey who called in sick, and another who genuinely had a few days off, they were understaffed. Fish made it clear to Katherine that it was time anyway to become more presentable in her employ.

She had cut the cleaning girl some slack, because of her shy demeanor, but Fish expected from everybody to get a hands on experience on various tasks. Katherine had moaned inwardly as her boss demanded that she work the tables tomorrow night. The blonde at first hadn’t understood Fish’s reproach and asked if she was unsatisfied with her work. The gorgeous woman had been in a good mood and assured her that her cleaning skills were not being questioned, only her willingness to invest more time in the business.

Fish had caught Katherine in a convenient trap and the blonde only had one answer to give. ‘Yes, Miss Mooney. As you wish, Miss Mooney.’ Butch had been helpful as ever and only added that it might give her the opportunity to get rid of the nickname she obviously disliked. Katherine had retorted that he would come up with a new one anyway and even Fish had to laugh at that. Now she had to explain to her parents that she had more hours to work at Fish’s. They had expressed their concern about the little time she had left for leisure.

As she wrung out the mop in the bucket she realized that she would have to wear one of the dreadful costumes the waitresses had on during their working hours. Skimpy was a mild term that came to Katherine’s mind. She placed the sweeper back on the floor and devoted her attention to the last part of the area that needed cleaning. Her father would tell her to try to see the upside in this situation. Apart from dreading dealing with touchy customers, there would be more pay and the prospect of a good tip. But considering her poor servicing skills if it didn't concern selling books she might not earn much.

It was unimaginable that all customers would be as nice as the old Hungarian lady who she had met. The reality looked very different. To her great satisfaction the floor was finally clean. She could pack up and go which she quickly did. After donning her usual headscarf, she turned off the lights and closed up the joint. Fish had shown her a big amount of trust by letting her do this. The cleaning girl was looking forward to get home as soon as possible to catch some shut-eye.

Tomorrow would be a very challenging day with big changes awaiting her. At home she would use the opportunity to prepare and ask her father for advice who was actively working in gastronomy. His input might offer some support for the challenges she would face when becoming a waitress for the first time.

  
The next day felt unsettling to her as she got up and entered the bathroom to freshen up. Sleep had been a little less peaceful than usual since the blonde imagined all kinds of scenarios where something could go wrong. While brushing her teeth a memory of an angry Fish Mooney scolding her, for complaints she received from a few guests, entered her mind and dampened her already less than pleasant mood. She shook her head in a physical attempt to rid herself of the mental image and continued her dressing routine.

When she entered the kitchen to eat an early dinner before work, her mother had already waited for her.   
It was nice to enjoy the food her father had prepared in good company and the quality time she spent with Elizabeth has calmed her fluttering nerves. They briefly chatted about a new book which had earned great reviews and slowly finished their meal.

A while later she took her leave from the apartment and swiftly walked to the usual subway station she used to get to her night job. The train ride itself felt short, not long enough to collect some rest before the pressure of her new position would become stronger.

Her anxiety grew as the subway car got closer to her arrival station. She would be at the night club very soon to work as a waitress for the first time. The technical announcement informed her that it was time to leave her seat. Damn, she didn’t feel ready. She should probably take a few swigs from her hipflask to calm down. A viable option in her opinion and she felt a little more reassured.

Katherine left the subway station and quickly headed towards the entrance of her destination. When she was inside the main hall she could already see a few staff members sitting at a table and waiting for somebody. She had been instructed to join them for their briefing and politely greeted them as she grabbed a chair to sit down. The others eyed her skeptically for a few seconds, but returned her greeting modestly. Soon another woman appeared who Katherine recognized to be a dancer as well. She introduced herself and explained the schedule for the evening. There would be no ‘zones’ for the waitresses to cover, ‘first come, first serve’ was the motto.

Furthermore she clarified that ‘Cindy’ would be helping out tonight. Katherine felt a pang of annoyment, but didn’t correct her. They would call her that anyway no matter what she said. Her mood began to drop as everyone was reminded of the burlesque style dresses they had to wear tonight. The man and woman working at the bar were lucky to wear the usual red jacket and long pants. The dancer finished her announcement by instructing everybody to check if the tables were correctly set and the decor was alright. Then all staff members took off to get changed.

Katherine picked her dress from the laundry room directly, since she knew where the clean uniforms were stored before they were picked and given to the staff. Nervously she took her costume under her arm and walked towards her chamber to change. It was unusual for her to lock the door behind her since there was never a necessity for it. As she was undressing she silently prayed that she had chosen the right size. It reminded her of the jittery moment in a department store dressing room where she would have to look for an article of clothing all over again if it was too big or too small.

This time the dress felt a little too tight, but manageable if she decided to stop breathing. The corset like cut of the burlesque dress was a look she would have liked if it didn’t look so tacky with the added red color. She was surprised that Fish would let them walk around like fashion victims when she herself looked divine in everything she wore. A thought occurred to Katherine.

She might be trying to make herself look even better when she was surrounded by cheap looking little girls. The blonde wanted to sigh, but discovered that she couldn’t do it. So she decided to huff instead. Her tiny mirror revealed that her bodice barely covered her bra. Katherine hoped that the black color would stay unnoticed for tonight. After she adjusted and shoved everything into place she applied a little makeup to look more acceptable for the evening. The final step was to copy the details around the eyes from the cutout from her favorite magazine. If everything around her felt dreadful she would make sure to enjoy at least a small part of it by making herself feel better. The femme fatale on her slip was subtly painted, but very distinctive.

Her scrutinizing gaze assured her that she could go out into the open. Therefore she quickly packed her makeup and opened the metal cabinet to take a last swig from her hipflask for encouragement. Then she closed it and opened the door to the hallway leading to the main hall. She would pretend that she wore her usual clothes and be confident about it. Her dad’s whiskey helped a little, but the stares she received from her coworkers were almost too much to bear. Did she make a mistake when applying her makeup? Did she already tore a ladder into her panty hose she didn’t know of?

Her wavy hair bounced slowly with every step as she neared another girl who was folding a napkin.   
Katherine offered her help and the girl accepted it.   
Perhaps this evening wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as she thought as she gathered a few small trays for the other waitresses. A short time later one of the bartenders prepared their purses and handed it out to them. The blonde closed the belt around her waist and checked the contents of the pouch. She memorized the amount and its compilation and closed it.

After all preparations were underway it was only a matter of time for the first customer to appear. In this case there was a whole bunch entering the facilities at the same time. She remembered it was a Friday evening. So a good night as any to learn the ropes. It did help that she had spent nearly two years in this establishment and knew the booths, spaces with tables, and nooks quite well.

The first guests took seats and the other waitresses spread out to show them their hospitality.   
Katherine’s eyes caught a middle aged couple who were just about to put their jackets next to them inside the booth. Fighting down her nervousness she intended to wait their table for tonight.

She approached them as they got comfortable.   
“Good evening, welcome to Mr. Park-, ...sorry I mean Mooney’s Night Club!”

Katherine exclaimed with a shaky voice. The couple looked at her with a hint of amusement, but let it slide.

The blonde continued, “What would you like to drink?” One of them said ‘Gin Tonic’ the other just opened the menu and said, “Sorry, I need another moment to consider.”

Katherine hurriedly replied, “Just take your time, I will be back shortly.”

She gave them a curt nod and stepped away to see if anybody else was needing assistance. The other two waitresses looked busy and no new patrons had arrived. A good time to get a quick glance at the menu and study the drinks they were serving. It would be helpful to make sure that she wouldn’t promise the customers drinks they didn’t have. Quickly she went to the bar to grab one of the small booklets and took a peek. The drinks were fairly standard and she recognized some of them by the stains they had caused on the table. She hated to clean up after the sticky cocktails.

One name sprung into her eye as she skimmed the page. The ‘Penguin Highball’. After distinguishing its contents she remembered the state she found Oswald in after she’d been instructed to clean up after his mess.   
She cringed and flipped to the wines they had to offer.

A female voice interrupted her reading. “Hey, are you waiting the tables, or not?”

Startled Katherine replied, “Yes! Sorry, I just had to look something up.”

The bartender softened her appraising look. “That’s ok, just don’t keep them waiting.”

“Understood!” Katherine turned on her heel, but was held up once more.

“One more thing!,” the other woman added.   
“Smile, blondie! You can’t keep frowning at the customers.”

The blonde nodded with embarrassment and was on her way back to the couple who were waiting to place their order. She had forgotten about her 'Resting Bitch Face Syndrome' as Butch had kindly put it once.

Katherine remembered seeing a notepad in her purse and brought it out to write down their drinks.   
“I apologize for making you wait. What can I get you?”

Once again a ‘Gin Tonic’ was ordered. The other decided to have a coke instead. The waitress repeated their drink wishes and politely thanked them for placing the order. She returned to the bar and placed the slip of paper to the other two that were queuing. The other notes looked similar to hers, at least in this regard she had done the right thing. But something about them reminded her of a recent thought she had had. She couldn’t put her finger on it yet.

The blonde checked if new customers had arrived.   
Three young men sat down into another vacant booth. They looked happy and in the mood for drinking.   
A minute or two passed as the young woman observed them, when nobody visited them she decided to go herself. Practise makes perfect they say. When she approached the men, they began to turn their heads to watch her.

Katherine didn’t want to think about what their expressions meant and greeted the group directly,   
“Good evening, welcome to Mooney’s Night Club. What can I get you?”

A handsome looking man to her left wanted a lager, the middle one a ‘Moscow Mule’, and the last one a bottle of ‘Home Hill Pinot Noir’. The blonde wrote down their order and got back to the bar to have their drinks prepared. In the meantime, she saw that the couple’s drinks were ready and she immediately served them. Waiting tables might be something she could get used to if it were always this relaxed which it rarely was.

After serving a few more tables she got a little more practised with the servicing aspect of tonight's job. Reminding herself to smile didn't always work out, especially when Butch had startled her when she carried a tray of dirty glasses back to the bar.

“Hey, Cinderella!,” he exclaimed exuberantly.

The blonde wished in this moment to have the strength to pick him up and slam him on the floor. Should she consider taking judo classes?

“Didn't know you could look this nice! You dress up like a mom most of the time.” Katherine rolled his eyes at him.

“Wow, thanks. Didn't know you're such a smooth talker.”

The big man retorted, “Only when I want to be.”   
He stroked his smooth chin. “Besides tonight just proves that you're like Cinderella alright.”

“How come?,” Katherine asked.

“Because you have transformed into a total babe and probably way later than midnight you're back to your gray and boring self.”

“BUTCH!,” she exclaimed angrily. “Why are we talking?”

The big man held up his arms defensively.   
“Relax, just love teasing ya. It's my way of saying you look nice and different.”

The smaller woman blushed and slightly turned away to hide her embarrassment. “Thanks… But you could stop using-”

“Sorry, Cindy! Ain't gonna happen. Just enjoy messing with you too much.”

Katherine shook her head as she continued to bring the tray back to the bar. She hoped it would be her only and last uncomfortable conversation tonight. But then something happened she didn't foresee. The music from the speakers quieted down as Mr. Alonso stepped on the dark stage. A spotlight followed him as he neared the middle. The stage manager already had a mic in his hands and politely announced that the dance act would be replaced with an alternative performance for the night. A disappointed groan ran through the audience which also was followed by a few low booing sounds.

Mr. Alonso promised that they will be entertained and shortly after left the stage after he had wished them a pleasant evening. A few minutes later the light was cast on Mona the club's beautiful singer and Oswald who accompanied her on the piano. Katherine quickly turned away to avoid being spotted by him. She had thought that he would be working in his small office for most of the night. The blonde pretended not to pay attention to the music on stage and focused on the customers she was serving. The performance reached her ears and pleased her, reminding her of how much she had missed Oswald's piano playing.

Even though the audience complained audibly at first, they eased into the music and began to enjoy it. Within the hour the main hall had become crowded with guests and two more waitresses arrived to help them out. Katherine was beginning to grow tired of the constricting feeling around her chest and looked forward to the moment where she could tear the cheap dress off.   
Her discomfort grew when she encountered Oswald moving behind the counter of the bar. When had he left the stage to join the barkeepers? Why did he have to work at the bar tonight where he would see the ridiculous getup she was wearing.

With a lowered gaze she walked up to the bar and silently placed her slip to the outstanding orders. Her position was revealed by the bartender who had spoke to her earlier.

“Hey, Cindy! Could you quickly get some more lemons from the stockroom? We're already out!”

Katherine nodded and swiftly began her walk towards the back of the club, in hopes of avoiding Oswald.   
She was lucky, since his attention had been drawn to something else for the moment.

 


	11. Allies

His fingers tensed up after he played the final notes of the song with vigorous movements. Mona held her tune and finished with a glamorous sweep of her evening dress. The audience held the silence for a moment and then applauded their enjoyable performance.

Oswald and Mona met in the center of the stage, held hands, and bowed together artistically. Both smiled and waved the audience goodbye as the lights on them turned off. An instant later the stage help began to rearrange the scene and redistributed the cables anew. The piano player and singer entered the backstage area and departed with a short friendly word. Oswald's brow felt moist and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab his forehead. With the music notes still in hand, he fanned some cool air into his face. He would ask Steve to decrease the light intensity the next time he would debut on stage.

Taking a few deep breaths Oswald began to focus on the next tasks he had to do. The main hall was crowded when he strode towards the bar to assist the bartenders for the next few hours. The waitresses were running around to take on the orders of the thirsty patrons, whereas the staff at the bar were wildly mixing drinks. When they saw him, they were visually relieved that more help had arrived. He stepped behind the bar and immediately got to work.

One of the bartenders passed him a paper slip with drinks when he heard a familiar name being called. He turned his head and saw bright blonde hair flowing down in smooth waves. The woman had already turned around, so he couldn't make out the details of her face. Oswald stared at the back of her head in surprise. Why was Katherine waiting tables? He was sure to have recognized her, but her appearance took him off guard. He would just have to ask her later how she ended up as a waitress for tonight.

For now, he would have to devote his attention to preparing drinks. One 'Tequila Sunrise’ later Katherine returned to the bar and brought fresh fruit for cocktails. It was his and probably everybody's first time seeing her dressed in something as revealing as the burlesque outfit. It was obvious that she didn't feel comfortable in her current situation. Most of the staff knew her as the introverted cleaning lady who resembled Cinderella in her worst time of life. Magic animals and fairies might not have sown her dress, but the change had an effect on her.

Oswald couldn't avoid noticing her cleavage whenever he was looking at her eyes and face. There was this vast space of skin taunting him to look, and if he did his bad conscience would betray him. An opportunity to speak to her presented itself as she was placing a new order for drinks. He took the slip from her and cheekily gave her a wink when she slightly flinched in surprise.

“Hello, Katherine. You look... different.” he said.

The blonde facepalmed and looked embarrassed.   
“Hello, Oswald. I was hoping not to run into you here. Not trying to sound rude.”

The younger man replied, “No need to feel ashamed. You are a novelty for us tonight, but the looks and stares will pass.”

Katherine gave him a weak smile and loaded her tray with fresh cocktails. “I hope it will pass sooner than later. Thanks for helping out.”

She left the counter of the bar and walked into the crowd. At this time many had assembled in front of the stage to dance to a DJ's music. The noise was increasing so that not only the customers, but also the staff had to yell to understand each other. One of the bartenders spoke up to make himself be heard by Oswald.

“So… You say her name is Katherine?”   
The black haired man nodded as he cut a slice of orange.

“How come everybody calls her Cindy or Cinderella?” Oswald turned his head towards the man who was placing an olive on a toothpick.

“It's because of Bush's habit of spreading nicknames.”

The bartender's eyes sparkled in understanding.   
“Yeah, now that you say it… Yours is Penguin, am I right?”

Oswald nearly sliced his thumb off as the knife in his hand slipped from the sudden agitation he felt.

Irritated he replied with a hiss. “Yesssss.”

The other man noticed Oswald's apprehension towards it. “Ah, don't be mad. I think Penguin is a great nickname.”

“Easy for you to say,” the shorter man interjected.

“No, man. Think about it! Penguins are very popular. And besides consider this, only unusual or interesting people get nicknames. You should be happy that Butch notices you.”

Oswald gave him a look tinged in disbelief and continued assembling his cocktail. So his annoying nickname had spread and was considered by some even as a good thing. His mood improved slightly as Katherine returned to pick up the drinks she had jotted down on the note. Her face was flushed with exhaustion and the heat of the room. He felt bad for her predicament and offered her a glass of water with cold ice.

Gratefully she accepted the tall glass and took great gulps to quench her thirst and cool down. By the look of it she would need a break soon, since the numerous hours of standing and walking took their toll on her unpractised endurance. She put the half empty glass down and sauntered off towards a booth with customers who were waving at her. A weird feeling took hold of Oswald as he watched her approaching the ogling group of men who waved their receipt around. Their faces revealed that they were unsatisfied, almost angry.

He couldn’t make out the words they were saying,   
but interpreted that Katherine and one of the men were discussing the contents of the check. The older man held up a few fingers to count, and Katherine held up both her hands to explain her reasoning. Repeatedly she pointed at the other customers and counted the amount of drinks they had. The broad man clearly got upset and grabbed Katherine’s arm. She protested audibly and slapped it away with an icy glance in the man’s direction.

Before the situation could get out of hand, another waitress appeared and bowed at the group apologetically. Then she pulled Katherine away towards the back of the room where both of them disappeared among the crowd. Glued to the spot where Katherine vanished, he saw her reemerge a few feet further with a sour expression on her face. The other girl was heading back to the bar and spoke to one of the bartenders to have a couple of shots prepared. They must have traded customers since Katherine didn’t go anywhere near them in the hour ahead.

Whenever he saw her she could see her downtrodden face sticking out in the masses of happy ones. She nearly scuffled as she came back to the bar to bring a tray of dirty glasses. Oswald met her at the counter and looked at her questioningly.

“Katherine, what happened?” She pointed behind her and explained in frustration.

“Those buffoons can’t add numbers! They tried to convince me that I billed them to high. But I know I was right! Then that… that macho grabbed me and said I wouldn’t know since I’m a blonde! One of the other serving girls saw me and intervened. Now I’m back here wishing… I don’t know! He made me angry!”

The black haired man became a little upset himself,   
but could only offer little solace.

“I can share your frustration. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Katherine combed her hand through her hair.   
“I know… I just hate feeling helpless about it.”

Before Oswald could add anything else, she was already on her way again to wait another table. He wished he could have shared some of his own experience about feeling powerless in the face of adversity, but it wasn’t the time nor the place to do it. How many times had Oswald wished for somebody to talk to who wasn’t his mother, somebody impartial, but also understanding of the hardships he had to carry. He felt a strong urge to share his pain in an attempt to lighten the load on himself.

But, Oswald felt scared as well, to share his personal emotions, thoughts, and fears. While he mixed another drink together, he reminisced about a former classmate who had become friendly with him. Both shared the same tormentor who would either steal their lunch money or beat them up just for fun. In the passing on the next school year his classmate had changed. He had grown taller and more self confident than Oswald, and became the target of bullying less and less. At first his friend had stood up for him whenever he needed help, but his efforts had lessened when the tormentor himself had developed a fancy for him. So it had happened that friend had turned foe, and Oswald had trouble to find another friend since then.

The pianist turned bartender got a light shove from his neighbor. The woman dressed in the red jacket had given him a shot with clear liquid.

She encouraged him to drink. “Enjoy! Liquid tip from a friendly patron!”

She clinked her glass against his and drank it in one gulp. Her expression grimassed, but she gave him a smirk.

“Come on, Penguin, she’s watching, don’t be impolite.”

Oswald gave a sullen shrug and downed the alcohol.   
His mood wouldn’t improve on its own anyway, so it couldn’t hurt to use some liquid aid. Fish might not approve of it, but in this moment he hardly cared.   
It helped to take off the edge of the constant pressure and tension he was feeling while working in the night club. When nobody was looking he prepared himself a quick drink he could sip from time to time. At some point he prepared a drink for Katherine as well and offered it as a small token of comfort for the stressful hours to come. She gladly accepted it, and both chinked their glasses together in secret appreciation.

  
The club kicked out their last customers in the early hours of the morning when only a quarter of the staff was left. Most of the mess had been tidied up, but there was a silent understanding that Katherine as the official cleaning lady would do the rest. Her state suggested that she might not be able to mop the floors, wipe the tables, or clean the bath rooms. The staff didn’t see it as their concern when they departed one by one after doing their part of the chores.

Oswald had already been briefed about closing up when Fish had approached him two hours earlier with a new set of keys. She had been satisfied with his accomplishments and assured him that he will be attending the meetings of next week with her.   
Oswald had beamed with pride and found the rest of the night or early morning rather pleasant. He would finally be part of negotiations that really mattered around here. At some point he had become so drunk that he even didn’t mind being called Penguin anymore, so when the staff had mentioned it once or twice he didn’t even twitch.

The young man spotted Katherine wiping down a few more empty tables. He had underestimated her will to keep herself upright when others felt to lazy to continue. But, there was a slowness and lack of gracefulness to her movements when she decided to quit after her last. Katherine let herself drop into a booth in an unladylike fashion and rested her head and arms on the smooth cool wood. The other staff members changed back into their usual clothes one by one and waved Oswald and Katherine goodbye.

Eventually only the two of them remained in the big empty hall. The black haired man joined Katherine with a bottle of wine and two glasses and sat down opposite from her. He placed a glass in front of the blonde and himself and poured the shiny red liquid inside it.   
The waitress looked up and smiled tiredly at him.   
When he lifted the glass to his lips, Katherine copied his movements and watched him while putting her glass down.

Oswald gathered his courage and asked the blonde a question which was lurking in his mind for a while now.

“Katherine…” The man searched her brown eyes.  
  
“Yes?”

He hesitated and then asked, “Why are you working for Fish?”

She looked to the side thoughtfully. “For money...like you do.”

He sighed and took another sip of his wine. “You know by now that I pursue more than money. And I assume by the nature of your darker skills that you do, too.”

“And if it were so?,” she asked innocently.

“Then…” He refilled their glasses a little more. “We might be able to help each other.”

His undefined offer appeared to have sparked her interest as Katherine took another sip of wine.  
“What are you exactly offering?”

“An exchange of information and favors?,” he suggested.

“I'm listening.”

It gave him a little more confidence as leaned closer.   
“I appreciate you considering my offer. How about we each talk a little about ourselves to ease into the process?”

The blonde nodded and moved an open palm towards him to motion him to begin.

“Then let me rephrase my question from earlier. Why work at Fish's or even in GOTHAM?”

His table neighbor contemplated for a moment before responding.   
“‘It's so much more interesting to study a ... damaged world. I find it difficult to learn anything in a place that's too civilized.’”

“How poetic. But, it is truth which I can agree with.”

Oswald drank from his wine as Katherine asked a question in return. It felt good talking to her.  
“And why are you working for Fish? Only to be in her good graces?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, she is merely a step in my long ladder.”

“To where?”

“To the top of course!” The words escaped him too quickly to be held back from his drunken self. He covered his mouth in surprise as he saw Katherine's intrigued expression.

“You're ambitious. I like that.”

“Are you making fun of me?,” Oswald asked with reproach.

The blonde gave him an incredulous look. “NO! Not at all! I thought we can talk openly. I have high goals, too. That isn't something I joke about.”

The young man relaxed against the cushion of the booth and loosened his hand around the glass.   
“What are your goals then? Since you already know mine it would only be fair of you to share.”

Her giddy expression revealed that no further invitation was needed.  
“I want to be rich and powerful and run my own businesses!”

Oswald grinned at her. “I see that you are aiming high as well.”

“Do you think I can't do it?!” Katherine hit the wooden surface with the palms of her hands forcefully. It made the drunken man jump a little, now it was his turn to calm the waves emanating off of her.

“It's not that I don't trust you to do it. I am pleasantly surprised, may I dare say.”

“Good save.” She pushed herself up. “Before we continue. Could you give me a moment? This dress is just uncomfortable.”

Oswald gave her a firm nod and seized the opportunity to look after her when she passed him. A light blush crept on to his cheeks and he admitted that she wore dresses quite well. Oswald didn’t feel much remorse for looking, who knew when he’d be able to see her like this the next time. Both wine glasses were refilled as the contents were nearing their end. If they kept drinking in this pace he would have to open a new bottle soon.

A few minutes later Katherine returned with her more casual clothes and sat down into the booth. She wore a soft blouse and long skirt which emphasized her waist and the curves of her legs. The young woman held her wine and swished it around in its small fragile container.

“I started at Fish’s for probably the same reason as you.   
I want to study her and learn as much as possible about her ‘work ethics’. But, I am a careful person and chose a specific way to do it.”

Oswald folded his arms across his chest. “Why did you choose this path and not a ...morally less questionable one.”

The blonde scratched her head, contemplating her response. “You’ll think I’m stupid and naive when I'll tell you. But, it’s really important to me.”

Impatiently he urged her on. “Try me. I promise I won’t judge you.”

Her wet eyes searched his and she took a few deep breaths. For added courage she drank a large gulp of wine as well. “I want to be as influential and powerful as Fish or even more than her, and change Gotham's path on its spiralling course into chaos and insignificance…”

Oswald’s eyes widened, but he didn’t comment on anything so she continued.

“There is all this raw potential and beauty I can see, but the people in power right now are doing nothing.   
Or worse, they are wasting the resources they could use.”

The man across from her carefully and intently asked, “Why not become… a government official instead?”

Katherine gave him a disbelieving look.   
“You know why. Because they become easily corrupted or they’re weak most of the time. If you want change then you have to wield enough power to make it happen. By using money, connections, influence, and methods outside of the law. At least I want to make my own!”

The black haired man stared at her in awe.

“Oh no… You think I’m being stupid.”

Oswald caught one of her hands in his and squeezed it encouragingly. It happened on its own, the alcohol lowering the need for personal boundaries.  
“No, Katherine. Your message resonates with me. I have thought about the same, but… I wonder if you can practise what you preach? Are you willing to do anything for it?”

Katherine’s expression looked hurt and a little uncertain. His question might have hit a sensitive spot.

“To be honest, I am not sure if I am capable to do the same you did. But you know I am NOT afraid to do the dirty work.” She gave him a defiant glare and pulled her hand from his grip to lift her glass.   
“I believe there are many paths leading to the same goal, and becoming Fish’s personal assistant might be one of them, but I am walking a different path.”

Oswald grinned and lifted his glass. “To that I can agree to… To many paths leading to the same goal.”

Both chinked their glasses and drank deeply. Oswald felt light headed and he enjoyed their game of questioning each other.

Now it was her turn. “I think I have spoken enough for a while, Mr. Penguin. I think it’s on you to spill the beans now.”

Oswald groaned. “Katherine, you know I don’t like being called that!”

She smirked good naturedly. “Awww, but ‘Penguin’ is much better than stupid ‘Cinderella’ if I may say. But I will respect your request.”

She twisted the corner of her mouth while thinking. “What will you do once you are king of Gotham?”

Her booth neighbor scoffed. “That’s easy! I WILL take control of the city, its assets, and use its resources to create an empire to rule over.”

Katherine’s mouth dropped in mock shock. “Ooh! But I want the city's resources! Then we’ll probably become rivals! That won’t do any good!”

Oswald emptied the bottle of wine into his glass and exclaimed in mock dismay, “Well what do you suppose we should do?”

The blonde clapped her hands together excitedly.   
“I know! Let’s become allies! I always yearned for one in my scheming plots.”

The black haired man laughed at her. “What kind of scheming do you do? How to replace the expensive hand soap with cheap one in the restroo- OW!!”

The cleaning girl punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be a smartass, new boy. I’m scheming against somebody right now, I just have to find the final piece of the puzzle.”

Oswald propped up his head with his hand on the table. “You could be lying, just to..to impress me!,” he slurred.  
  
Katherine strongly shook her head. “No, no, no! I found a note which...which…”

She sharply took in her breath as realization was etched on her face. Hurriedly she reached for the waitress purse and reached for the notepad. The blonde stared at the blank page and didn’t say anything.

Only when Oswald snapped his fingers a few times in her face, did she wake up from her trance. “Sorry, I just discovered something. Wait here. I need to examine my find.”

His gaze followed her when she walked behind the bar to use the black rotary dial phone that was there.   
She dialed a number, waited, her demeanor changing from happy to anxious.

Oswald began to worry and stood up as well to join her at the bar. “What happened?”

Slowly she lifted her gaze and met his, after she put down the handset back on its cradle .

“Oswald, have you heard anything from Casey?”

“Yes, I asked Steve about her and he told me that she called in sick because she was feeling depressed. Why do you ask?”

Katherine lowly responded with profound worry in her face. “Because, I have a creeping suspicion about her absence.”

The black haired man still couldn’t follow her. His mind was still clouded from his recent alcohol intake.   
It stressed him to see Katherine this jittery and nervous.

Annoyed he rubbed at his eye and asked, “Could you just tell me what’s going on? Who did you call? I am not at the height of my mental capacities in this instant.”

The blonde held on to Oswald’s shirt collar in urgency and pulled him towards her. The movement made him flinch in surprise.   
“Oswald! I think the bartender you killed...I think he was involved with Casey. Romantically!”

He just stared at her in return and shook his head. “What? No, no… I don’t think so. Where’s the proof?”

“Well, I believe the number I was trying to call was Richie's. The number was on a slip of notepad paper from the waitress attire. He worked at the bar and could have written his number down for her, right?”

“It does sound a little far fetched. We should lie in wait and observe the situation for now.”

“You're right. That is probably the best choice. But most importantly, nobody can know about this. We keep our suspicions to ourselves. Understood? We can discuss it tomorrow when we’re sober.”

She let him go and quickly gathered her things to depart from the club. “I have to go home and think about this.   
I am sorry that we couldn’t finish our conversation.”

The two of them got up, but the slightly taller man wobbled a little when he stood. Katherine approached him and gently held his arm. “Let me close up.”

Obediently Oswald handed her the keys, and they both got ready to exit the building, even though Katherine did most of the actions involved. Lastly, she helped Oswald into his jacket and pulled him through the door. After the final lock was turned Katherine had returned the keys to the drunk man standing beside her.

“Thank you for cheering me up, Oswald. I had fun tonight, despite the waitressing part of it.”

“I had a pleasant evening with you as well, Katherine,” he purred.

The blonde eyed him worriedly. “Oswald, will you make it home tonight?”

He waved off her comment like a pesky fly.   
“You should go, I’ll be fine.”

She smiled gently and said goodbye to him. But when she took the first step towards the subway, his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Wait a second. I forgot to say something earlier… I’ll be your ally if you like. We did work well together.”

The blonde was visibly touched as a glossy glaze covered her eyes. “Thank you, Oswald. I’d appreciate that.”

She squeezed his hand affectionately and released it. “Goodnight, get home safely!”

Katherine turned and briskly walked towards the subway station. When he watched her go, he could already see the dawn of a new day approaching. Oswald cherished this moment for a while until he decided to call a cab and head home.

 


	12. The Invitation

The blonde nursed her camomile tea as her headache was reaching its zenith for the day. Her hangover hadn’t luckily been noticed by her boss Mr. Parkins when he greeted her around noon in the book store. He was a broad friendly looking man who reminded her of everybody’s nice uncle from their childhood. His hair was receding, but still puffy at the sides. His rusty spectacles hung low on his nose when he flipped through the pages of the book he was holding. Her boss probably didn’t pay much attention to her today, because he was waiting for a delivery of new books to arrive.

Giddy as a child on christmas, he sauntered around the shop front and therefore left Katherine alone with her assignments. Slowly, but surely she read through the reports of the other small businesses which were connected to the Sullivan’s in this neighborhood. It was a menial task, but still preferable over waiting tables on a Friday night. Nothing noteworthy caught her eye and she took another break to gently deal with the headache.

Of course her parents noticed this late morning that their daughter was hiding a hangover and called her out on it. Anton who loved to tease her, when he saw his little girl slip from her perfectly planned routine offered to fix her a remedy. He was still a cook in a pub after all and knew how to beat the ‘period of feelings’. His wife had playfully slapped him on the arm to chide him for his poor choice of words. She had also offered Katherine some real medicine that would be easier on the stomach at least. Now, she was considering taking another of those pills, but didn’t know if a higher dosage might cause some unpleasant side effects.

So Katherine endured and hoped that her discomfort would soon pass. A pleased squeal could heard from the front of the store, and Katherine strained her ears to make out the details of what had happened. Apparently, Mr. Parkins was talking to a friend who he hadn’t seen in a while. Her curiosity lead her to the hallway connected to the register and she stealthily peeked at the edge of the door frame to see who her boss had welcomed. To her pleasant surprise she saw Gertrúd returning the bear hug she had received from Mr. Parkins. They were pleasantly chatting about the recent gossip in the neighborhood and didn’t pay much attention to her.

Since she wanted to greet the old lady as well, she waited for them to notice her and include her in their little circle. Gertrúd saw her standing behind the counter and poked Mr. Parkins to stop his trail of conversation.

“Raymond, look who is here. Katherine!,” she exclaimed happily.

The older man turned towards his employee and said, “Oh, hello, Kate! Have I ever introduced you to Miss Kapelput?”

The older woman interrupted him cheekily.   
“Ach, Raymond, we know each other. She picked the perfect book for my boy. He was very happy.”

Mr. Parkins smiled at her. “Wonderful, so no need for formalities! Kate, dear, when did the two of you meet?”

The blonde responded, “That was recently, Mr. Parkins, when you met Mr. Riley for the collection he had to over.”

The older man remembered and nodded in understanding. “I see. How pleasant. Would the two of you like to catch up, perhaps?”

He looked back at Katherine. “I wouldn’t mind if you would take your break a little earlier today. As you can see I am still hounding the door for the post officer to arrive. That fellow has been running late and I shall be damned if I miss him.”

His employee playfully rolled her eyes. “You can be certain, Mr. Parkins, that I would have received him myself if you had to run to an appointment.”

Gertrúd kindly patted the older man’s arm. “Ha! Isn’t she reliable? You have chosen her well.”

“That I did, dear Gertrúd. She is a hard worker and takes great care of her responsibilities. That’s why I do not mind at all if the two you would go out without me.”   
In a mock dramatic gesture he covered his eyes with his arm and sighed.

Katherine addressed the older woman. “Would you like to join me for a bite to eat, Gertrúd? I would be happy to invite you!”

She in turn hesitated and replied, “That offer is too generous. I feel bad to accept.”

“Nonsense!,” Mr. Parkins answered for Katherine.   
“When she says it she means it. Run along you two!”

Gertrúd twisted one of her grayish blonde locks around her finger. “Then I will accept your invitation. Thank you.”

Katherine gave her and her boss a genuine smile.   
“And thank you, Mr. Parkins, for your kind gesture.”

“Shush! Now don’t forget your purse and your coat.   
It might be a little chilly outside.”

The blonde returned to her office, all the while thinking how lucky she was to have a friendly boss. Perhaps his great manners made him nearly invisible to the authorities. She picked up her purse and coat and met the lovely old lady in the front. Mr. Parkins had already taken a seat on the stool behind the counter and bid them goodbye. The two women left the store and walked to a deli Gertrúd had recommended.

  
After enjoying a great meal together, the two of them went for a walk to help them digest the sandwiches they had. Gertrúd had told her a lot about her childhood and teenage years in Budapest and the early years she had spent in Gotham. Katherine was curious to hear about her experience as an immigrant and the challenges she had to overcome. They found a comfortable bench inside a little park where they took a seat. The younger woman had told Gertrúd about her parents and a little about the life they shared. The old lady on the other hand remembered to tell her about the book she gifted her son.

“Oh, the book was perfect for my boy! I cooked him his favorite food and put the book in nice paper. And when he came home tired, the poor thing, and saw what I had prepared for him. He was so happy! I watched him read and eat. Actually it is not good manners at table. But I made exception, because he couldn't put the book down.”

The blonde smiled and felt a tinge of pride for finding such a great fit. Perhaps there would be a chance to talk with her son about books in person in the future. Eventually it was time for Katherine to return to work and she hugged the old lady goodbye. But she was held by Gertrúd's hand on her arm a moment longer.

“Not so fast!” She smiled at the young woman.

“Now I want to invite you! Please come to my home, to my table, and eat my homemade food!”

Katherine replied, “I would love to, but-.”

“Ah, ah, ah! You are very busy, but you tell me when and then I cook!”

She regards the shorter older lady and felt genuine intent coming from her. “Then I would love to accept. Would the day after tomorrow work for you? A late lunch?”

Gertrúd immediately approved. “Perfect! I will tell my son, so he can eat with us, too. Then you will finally meet.”

“I look forward to it,” Katherine said.

The old lady gave her a shrewd look.   
“He is handsome boy, you will see! And single!”

The blonde smiled awkwardly when Gertrúd gave her a knowing wink. The older lady explained where they lived.

“Thank you for the invitation, until next week!”

“Bye bye, Katherine!,” the older woman said and let Katherine go to head into the opposite direction.

The blonde stood for a moment to watch Gertrúd walk away with a slight bounce in her step. She found it endearing and smiled about being invited to her home and meeting her son. With lighter steps than this noon Katherine walked into the book store only to find Mr. Parkins still waiting for the post officer. She wished him good luck and locked herself into the office to finish her work for the rest of the day. Sitting silently at her desk she rubbed her temples to smooth out the waning headache. It had helped to go outside and have a light lunch with Gertrúd.

Katherine examined the tables of expenses and pushed her calculator closer to affirm some sums. It appeared to be correct and she moved to the next page. During her calculations she contemplated about the conversation she had with Oswald the night before. Had it been a mistake to talk about her ambitions so freely? Oswald hadn't laughed at her, but challenged her mindset if she were ready to go all the way for it. It had worried her if she could be as ruthless just like her role model Fish.   
She would like to be, but she would still need lessons in toughness. Would her Mother who had endured so much over the years be a good guide for her? Katherine sighed. How much would she need to change to achieve her goals? Would her efforts be enough?

She remembered what Oswald had hinted at. Could she kill a person if she had to? There had been a number of thresholds she had passed to come to the point she was today. She didn't have a problem with taboos per se,   
but she couldn't foresee how her psyche would hold up when she'd be forced into a situation like Oswald's. Her headache worsened when she remembered the revelation she had. If Oswald had more or less accidentally murdered Casey's lover than they both could end up in trouble. So far she didn't appear to know about them being involved, but if she were to find out there was no way to know what she might do. Fish, Butch, Oswald, and her were the only ones who knew about it. If Casey had asked around what had happened to the former bartender then only their bosses could have given her an answer. For now, she would try to find out what Casey knew.

Katherine continued with the other folders until the sun was beginning to set outside. She withdrew from her desk after sorting binders and folders for Mr. Parkins to examine at, and left the office to check on her boss. He in turn was picking up a few books from a shelf nearby and neatly placed them inside a small box. Katherine approached him and lightly cleared her throat to make herself heard.

Mr. Parkins turned around and said, “Hello Katherine. Are you done for today?”

His employee nodded. “Yes, Mr. Parkins. You'll find everything on my desk. If you there's nothing else that needs last minute attention I would get going now.”

“No, that should be fine. I will close a bit earlier today.” He put the box with the packed books to the side.   
“It's nice to see that you bonded with a friend of mine. Gertrúd is a very agreeable spirit. And her cooking is excellent.”

Katherine smiled as her boss patted his round stomach. “But I ask you to be patient with her, too. She doesn't get out much and might have unusual opinions.”

“Thanks for making me aware of it. I'm sure we'll have a great time.”

The older man nodded approvingly and wished her a pleasant evening. Katherine returned the goodbye and picked up her personal belongings to quickly depart. If she hurried she would be able to have a decent nap before she had to return to waiting the tables at Fish's tonight. Dashing towards the next subway she thought about talking to Oswald again and finding out if he could be the ally she needed. 


	13. Rough Regret

Sitting in his tiny office Oswald gripped his stomach as another churning sound rumbled through it. The tuna sandwich he had earlier hadn't been the best choice for hangover food, but his mother had insisted on having a little to eat at least. She had been very excited this late afternoon when she had told him to come into the living room after she had woken him up. Of course he had argued with her that he would need to sleep longer, because of his rough new work schedule. But she had rationalized that he should have something to eat and drink first, then he could return to bed so that he wouldn't be famished when heading to work.

He understood that she had just felt lonely and needed his company for a while. He hadn't really spent time with her at all in the last few days. For this reason he had sat down with his mother in the living room, wanting to be the perfect son for her. The reason for her excitement was for a lunch she had planned for them. She wanted to prepare something special to celebrate his recent achievements. Oswald felt touched, but couldn't really follow what else his mother had been saying, due to nearly falling asleep on the spot. He had nodded approvingly at whatever she had said and had smiled at her in the right moments. His mother's face had looked happy and that was all he cared about.

Unfortunately he hadn't able to catch more sleep, because his headache had prevented him from resting. Now, his head was pounding and focusing on anything on his desk was a pain. He nursed his water and took an aspirin which he had found in the medicine cabinet. Oswald hated himself for drinking too much last night, even though it had helped him to relax immensely.   
The pressure and agitation of the last few weeks seemed to have dissolved in the alcoholic solution.

He wondered how Katherine was doing and considered dropping by for a visit in her chamber. It was an inviting thought to hide from Fish there for the remainder of the evening. The dial of his wall clock had told him something otherwise. It was time to go to her office and deliver his report on his recent activities. With a deep sigh he got up and quickly had to hold onto the edge of his table to stop the world from spinning. The short dizziness which had settled in from sitting too long passed quickly fortunately.

Taking a few deep breaths, he collected the willpower to go to his boss. A few minutes later he knocked on her wooden classy door. A strong confident voice welcomed him inside. To his surprise, he found Fish and Butch inside the office sharing a drink in the lounge area.   
The lavishly dressed woman pointed to a vacant armchair for him to sit in. After he sat down the three of them spoke about recent business moves and activities related to a wine selling deal Fish had planned.   
The mentioned name rang a bell for Oswald and he spoke up to address Fish.

“Excuse me, Miss Mooney, but may I add a question at this point. The name 'La Tache’ sounds familiar. Was it perhaps served at the party some time ago?”

Her beautiful face turned into a sneer. “Interesting that you bring it up. It was served unintentionally. Do you remember by whom?”

Oswald had to consider it a moment and then swallowed heavily. “Was that why you 'scolded’ Richie?”

Fish nodded. “Yes, Richie made that stupid mistake.   
But the issue was worse than expected. It turned out that Richie had promised this council member even more bottles then the three he had given him that night.”

Butch added gravely, “Was some dirty work necessary to make that birdie stop singing. If word had gotten out...”

“It would have bitten us all in the ass!,” the gorgeous woman finished with an exaggerated gesture, pointing at Oswald.   
“So Richie got what he deserved! You remember that!”

He nodded with understanding and brought up another topic that would either put him in Fish's good graces or get him into real trouble. Oswald folded his hands on his lap and earnestly looked at his boss.

“Miss Mooney, this situation has brought something to my attention which I would like to share. I hope that I am doing right by you for not withholding this information.”

The two superiors in the room shared a curious glance. Butch said, “By all means, Penguin! Spill the beans!”

Oswald took a deep breath and began retelling what Katherine had told him only in an altered version.   
“You have heard about the dancer Casey who has called in sick and thus forced Mr. Alonso to reschedule his acts?”

Both of them nodded and signaled him to continue.   
“I have reason to believe that Richie and Casey were involved romantically. That is why I think Casey is behaving strangely.”

Fish put her fingers together in contemplation and said not a word for a few moments.   
“It's good that you shared this information. You should always do if you have a suspicion. But what is your proof?”

Oswald had had a hunch that she might ask something like this. “She dropped a note with a phone number which turned out to be Richie's. Also Mr. Alonso can confirm that she had been in the club's dressing room at odd times. They have probably met there.”

Butch shared a look with his patron and said,   
“The timing does fit. Also she wouldn't want us to know that she was screwing Rich in the dressing room.”

Fish turned to her right hand henchman. “Something tells me there's more to this. Butch check up on her and tie up any loose ends.”

“Understood, boss.”

The big man complied to her demand this instant and got up to button his jacket. With long strides he left the office. The woman focused her attention on Oswald who was sweating cold beads from his forehead.

“If you're going to be sick in this room I will slap you so hard your own mother won't recognize you.”

Tremors went through Oswald's spine as he imagined the horrid scenario she described. Was she going to punish him for his hangover? He gulped heavily.

“You don't have to feel any guilt, my little Penguin. Rich tried to mess with my business! And nobody gets away with that! So you freshen up and be a good boy. Forget about that lousy bartender and get to work. Finish up your paperwork and then help out at the bar.”

Oswald was relieved that Fish hadn't guessed the true reason behind his nausea quickly got up, bowed, and said, “As you wish, Miss Mooney.”

The younger man exited his boss’ office and wiped the sweat of his forehead. He desperately needed some water and a break before he had to go help out the bartenders. Oswald swiftly entered his office and grabbed the glass of water on the table. Taking a few sips he felt slightly better, but still nauseous. Had it been a good idea to tell Fish the secret he had shared with Katherine? In the spurt of the moment he hadn't hesitated to reveal the details to their boss. But in hindsight he felt a little bad about it. It reminded him of the feeling he got whenever he lied to his mother.

Another churning sound bubbled from his stomach and Oswald moaned audibly. Cursing inwardly about every drop of alcohol he had consumed, he hunched over his desk and took a few minutes to close his eyes. When the wave of sickness abated he returned to his paperwork and used another hour to skim the folder with transaction details to his boss’ current wine trade.   
The numbers fluttered beneath his unsteady gaze as Oswald's eyes were beginning to droop. A few minutes later he lost the battle with his fatigue and fell asleep on top of white and yellow papers.

His dream had flourishing and colorful details which enticed and distracted him with hints of recent events. Katherine appeared, dressed in the skimpy serving girls’ uniform catwalking her way into his office with a leery look on her face. The background was blurred and twisted with intrinsic tremors, but the detail and brightness of her hair were clear. She walked around the table, not waiting for him to answer, and massaged his tired shoulders. Her grip felt odd and irregular, but he felt a tingly sensation on his neck when her knuckles skimmed his skin. A small moan escaped his mouth.   
He turned away from her in embarrassment and considered asking her to stop. The intimate interaction had stirred unfamiliar feelings in him which caused a wave of anxiety. Suddenly her movements became more erratic and less pleasant to experience. A sense of fright gripped him and Katherine spoke shrill and incoherent words as she touched his face. He felt her patting his cheek repeatedly and the feeling became more intense with every passing second, until he heard a clear   
“Wake up!” coming from her.

The realization that he might not be dreaming anymore made him jolt up in shock with a deep intake of breath. Katherine jumped backwards in surprise and quickly covered her mouth to suppress her startled scream. Oswald stared wide eyed at the young woman in front of him who had an expression of horror cast over her face. He rubbed his eyes and noticed this moment that she looked different from the image of his dream. She wore a black tube dress with mid length sleeves which looked pleasing on his eyes. Her blonde hair was swept up in a pretty ponytail. Katherine took a careful step forward.

“Oswald, are you alright? You look… ill.”

The black haired man pinched the bridge of his beak like nose and sighed. “How long was I out?”

The blonde calmly responded, “Not too long I assume.   
I volunteered to you pick up for bar duty.”

She examined him more closely. “I apologize for waking you up so roughly. You were in deep sleep and not reacting to my attempts.”

Oswald held up a hand reassuringly and got up his chair. “No, Katherine. You did nothing wrong. Thank you for fetching me.”

The woman nodded appreciatively and stepped outside to make room for him to follow, but she prevented him of leaving. “Just a moment, Oswald. Your bow-tie...may I adjust it?”

The slightly taller man blushed lightly and averted his gaze to hide the pang of trepidation he felt.   
“You may… Thanks.”

Being so close to her felt a little strange after the trippy dream he experienced. Her hands deftly found the ties of the knot and gently pulled at them to prop up the black smooth material. Oswald admitted that it felt nice to have another person pay so close attention to him without being mean or brutish. Katherine stepped to the side and gave him a friendly smirk.

“You must spend a fair amount of your salary for the quality of your wardrobe. The fabric looks and feels great.”

He became flustered and only gave a quiet ‘thank you’ as reply. The two of them walked briskly into the main hall were a sizable crowd had gathered before a band playing on stage. They passed another waitress wearing the same dress as Katherine's who served a group of dolled up cheery women. Oswald briefly noticed the serving girl giving them an apprehensive look, but he didn't dwell on it due to the distracting motions in his stomach. His nap had helped with the headache, but the remainder of the hangover had to be endured. Only problem was how he was suppose to do it while working at a stressful workplace with hours ahead of him before any chance of rest.

Katherine picked up freshly prepared drinks with a tray and beelined for the tables with thirsty patrons.   
The sickly man scuffled behind the bar and exchanged a quick briefing with the other two bartenders active tonight. Their tired faces revealed it would be a tough shift for all of them. Oswald prayed for the endurance to pull through and make it till the end.

 


	14. Loss Of Comfort

Her brow furrowed when she walked to a booth with empty glasses and pieces of fruit where guests had been seated a few moments before. She complained inwardly about how messy people could be, but quickly freed the surface of everything obtrusive. Her view moved back to the black haired man who she found sleeping in his tiny office.

Katherine felt bad for Oswald. Not only was his masochistic work schedule taking its toll on him, but also the drinking of last night must given him a rougher hangover than she experienced. His skin looked paler and the rings under his eyes were darker. She saw him spill a fair amount of crushed ice as he poured it into a mixer. It earned him an eye roll of a neighboring barkeeper. They would probably send one of the waitresses to fetch more ice soon if Oswald continued to be less than his graceful self.

A customer waved at her and she rushed to his side.  
It didn't become easier to wait the tables, but she was able to become more accustomed to certain waitress routines. Knowing how to entertain a guest was an entirely different case. She had never been one of the flirty types and didn't feel to comfortable with smalltalk either. That's why sticking to a more methodical approach was something which came more natural to Katherine. The tip might have been just at the border of polite and rude, but she there was no time to complain anyway. More guests were demanding her attention each instant. Especially the drunk types that became bold enough to hit on her.

There had been a time in her past where she appreciated this kind of attention of others, but the change of maturity and past events have entirely rid her of these emotions. Hadn't the Maroni's boys maimed her mother for her past transgressions, she wouldn't have come to face with the cruelty of the trade and thus been forced to become more than a spoiled teenager in denial of how her parents earned their money. The memory of when she and her father had found her mother in that terrible state, and her father's hunt for the person who did that to her, would still make her shake in fury and terror.

Katherine was lost in her thoughts and accidentally pumped into another guest who too quickly lifted their arm in the wrong moment, and made her halt in her tracks. The abrupt motion made her spill two drinks whereas the third nearly tumbled to the floor.  
She immediately gripped it, but the contents poured on to the tray she was holding and mostly on herself.

The blonde moaned in frustration. Not only would she need to go back to the bar and make them redo the order, but also she would be stuck in a sticky dress for the remainder of the shift. Her mood had turned from mildly stressed to deeply frustrated.  
Katherine immediately returned to the bar to find Oswald slowly poking a toothpick through an olive.  
She grimaced a little at the thought of how pathetic the two of them looked, but then even laughed a little from the humor of the situation. Oswald's head shot up and she looked at her with a slight scowl.

“Is my state so amusing to you?” She couldn't tell this second if he was bantering or being serious.

“No, not at all!,” she said and pointed to herself.  
“I made a mess of myself and was laughing at the general situation of it all.”

The sickly man regarded her a moment and raised his eyebrows. “Didn't take you for a klutz.”

The blonde flashed him an irritated look. “Says the man too hungover to make a Martini.”

Oswald scolded her in a hushed voice. “Do you want to let everybody know?!”

Katherine looked apologetically into his tired eyes.  
“I'm sorry!”

She only got a moan from him in response as he quickly held on to the edge of the counter.

Worriedly she asked him, “Oswald, what's the matter?”

She could guess what bothered him, but she hoped that he would elaborate. He closed his eyes and bent towards a low cabinet to draw a champagne bucket from it.  
The black haired man faced Katherine and motioned for her to come closer as he neared the side of her head to whisper.

“Katherine, you have to do something for me…”  
He gulped heavily. “And you are the only one I trust.”

There was a small fluttering sensation in her chest when he had said it. Oswald showed her the metallic cooler.

“I… don't think I can make it to the restroom…”

The blonde's brown eyes widened in surprise when his favor dawned on her.

“And I will surely be sick any moment. Could you please hide or-”

She interrupted him swiftly. “Stop!” Anxiety was written over her face. “You don't want to be sick!”

He looked quizzically at her while his breathing became more labored.

“Imagine Fish finds out! And how am I supposed to explain that I am carrying around a bucket of sick!”

Oswald's face twisted in discomfort. “I KNOW, I KNOW!”  
He held his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

A sudden idea came to Katherine's mind and she took one of his hands away to make him look at her.  
“Oswald, take a glass and put lots of ice and some ginger ale in it. Then drink it!”

His expression looked a little clueless, but he followed her instructions quickly. The grimace he made looked almost funny after swallowing his icy drink. Blue eyes pressed shut in concentration and then opened to look at the worried face of Katherine.

“Do you feel a little better?”

The pale man nodded and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “Yes...But how did you know it would help?”

“I remembered my mother telling me that she used to drink that a lot when she was having trouble with her morning sickness. Glad to see that it worked.”

She patted Oswald's arm before departing towards the crowd of the hall. The stares the bartenders have given them had caused her to leave his side. There was a chance that they would gossip about what had transpired, but she hoped that the noise of the crowd had scrambled their words.

  
Many customers later, she kept herself busy by wiping down one of the booths where a customer had spilled a drink on the cushion of the bench. The frustration she had felt about said guest distracted her from the rising nervousness in her chest.  
Oswald had made it till the end of the shift, but was nowhere to be seen. He had left one and a half hours ago as the crowd of guests had thinned down and his help was no longer needed. With dignity he had left the scene and disappeared. Katherine had a few guesses where he might have strode off too, but didn't want to imagine him being in the restroom.

Instead she used the time to change back into her wrapping dress and buttoned cardigan from home and tossed the damp black dress into the hamper. The other staff members had been clearing out after the main part of the clean up had been finished.  
Fifteen minutes later Katherine sat at the booth her and Oswald had sat at before and played with a strand of hair. A tapping sound of fine shoes hitting the wooden floor caught her attention when she saw Oswald approaching her. His overall exterior had improved and Katherine felt a little relieved. With an exhausted huff he let himself drop into the booth with a bottle of water between his hands.

“You helped me again, Katherine. I thank you for that.”

The woman sitting across from him just shrugged her shoulders.  
“It was nothing. You were in quite the predicament and it was the only thing that I could think of.”

“But it proved to be the perfect solution.” He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a sip of water. “It gave me enough time to deal with the nausea when Fish called me to her office.”

“I think I've never been in her office.”

Oswald cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why have you never been there?”

The blonde shook her head disappointedly.  
“Well, because all talks take place in the main hall.  
Either at the bar or at one of the tables. But I wish I could...” She looked ashamed to the side and said, “Nevermind.”

Too bad she noticed her mistake too late.

“Say it.” His demeanor showed that he wouldn't give her a break if she didn't explain.

Katherine said, “Do you remember the agreement we made at this booth the night before?”

Oswald was quiet and appeared to consider what she was asking. “I told you that I would be your ally…”

Katherine nodded slowly and looked Oswald in the eye. “And are you? My ally?”

The pale man's face became serious, but there was a moment's hesitation before he said. “I am.”

The blonde registered the brief pause and decided to question him about it. “You trusted me enough to help you with your 'problem’ tonight, and I want to trust you with mine. But if you are not willing then-”

“Katherine, please believe me,” he said. “This is just new to me.”

“You mean opening up to another person?” Oswald nodded and she replied, “I understand, that is why I am so scared right now.”

She rubbed her hands and stared at them while sighing. “Please keep this to yourself, because I don't want anybody to find out. I want to get into Fish’s office to... to examine her books. I want to get a grip on her finances.”

Oswald looked puzzled and scratched his temple in thought. He took another sip from his water bottle and was quiet.

Katherine understood it as a sign to elaborate. “I am a bookkeeper.”

At this the dapper dressed man asked, “YOU are a bookkeeper? Then why do you work as a cleaning lady?”

“Just like I said yesterday, to observe her and her business. But I can do it best by studying her numbers. All the answers I need are there.”

Oswald gave her a surprised look and said, “Does Fish know?”

Katherine responded immediately. “No, I don't think so. It is a secret guarded by only a few.”

He folded his arms on the table and his voice turned serious. “Good. You could end up in quite the predicament if she knew.”

A little exasperated Katherine retorted, “Do you understand now, why I am so careful? I trust you with my secret, Oswald. Please don't-”

“Don't what?,” he asked.

“Betray me.” She slowly got up the table and put on her outerwear. Then she faced Oswald and waited for a response from him. But he was staring at the surface of the table in deep contemplation. Katherine was sad that he didn't show her any kind of comfort or security for the profoundness of the information she had shared. Teary eyed she quickly left the black haired man behind and headed towards the exit. She hoped that she would not regret putting her trust in him.

 


	15. The Guest

Oswald lounged around in bed while reading the book his mother got him a second time. The puzzles of the classical detective story busied his mind and distracted him from his troubling thoughts. He was well rested for once due to two nights of deep sleep and Gertrúd leaving him alone when he needed it. It was afternoon by now and he half expected to be reminded to get up quite soon. For this reason he behaved as silently as possible to give the impression that he was still sleeping.

Usually he wouldn't be this evasive towards his mother, but the last conversation with Katherine had stirred something in him which was unsettling. Oswald put the book away, acknowledging that his train of thought was gaining momentum and was in full motion now. The way she had trusted him with her secret had touched him, but also made him question how he could use this information in his favor. This in turn had caused an inner conflict of guilt, because his conscience forbid him of taking advantage of her who had been friendly and helpful towards him. He had to remind himself that she knew a dark secret of his as well.

Katherine had helped to put it away, but she could still use her knowledge against him. Oswald wanted to believe that he had found somebody he could confide in instead of dealing with everything alone. Her confession that she was a bookkeeper surprised him greatly, but also made him rejoice inwardly. Her skills could help him improve his paperwork which Fish Mooney has given him. Also wouldn't it be nice to have a conspirator who he could trust on his path to power? Even his boss had a loyal companion in Butch who strengthened her back. Could Katherine be more than a friendly acquaintance from work and make his steep ascension more achievable?

His fear of her crossing him, made him doubt if he could fully trust her, even though she had freely shared her secret with him. What good would it have done to tell her that he would keep her promise unless she would do something that would cause him harm? Saying nothing had been a better choice in his opinion. Oswald slowly got out of bed to walk towards his wardrobe. He decided to wear a dark cross bow tie with a dark dress shirt and jacket which he would combine with a deep burgundy vest. The articles of clothing were placed on his bed, then he made his way to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

When he passed the kitchen an array of tasty smells entered his nose. His mother must have been busy for a while now and probably only let him sleep, because she didn't find time to wake him. Slightly amused he bathed, freshened up, and dressed and wondered why Gertrúd was cooking all these various dishes. Half an hour later he entered the old lady's realm and greeted her kindly. His mother deep in concentration was startled, but strode towards her son to give him a big hug.

“Oswald, you remembered! You look so handsome!”

The younger man not immediately catching on what his mother meant downplayed it by saying, “Oh, mother! Of course I will look nice for our lunch together.”

His gaze swept across the number of pots and bowls she had been using. “It looks like you outdid yourself! As usual.”

Gertrúd proudly replied, “Nah, nah! It is special day for celebrating success of my good boy! And we will have a guest to celebrate with!”

Oswald tried to hide his puzzlement by acting enthusiastic about the reminder. “Yes, I look forward to our lunch together.”

His mother nodded approvingly and asked, “Could you please help your dear Mama by setting table?”

Without hesitation her son smiled at her and went to the dining room to open the dish cabinets. When he was out of eyesight he tried to remember who his mother had invited? Unfortunately he hadn't been very attentive the last few days, especially on the day of his hangover.   
His grizzly recollection revealed that she was talking about someone who she had met at the bookstore. Anxiety grew when he couldn't piece more information together and imagined that his mother had invited an old Hungarian friend who would chide him every few minutes for being too slow in his mother's tongue.

Oswald actually looked forward to spending some quality time with his mother, but doubted that the guest would allow it. His mood turned from cheerful to morose and he wished that he had stayed in his room for the whole day. Perhaps her good cooking would offer him some solace, since his recovery would allow him to enjoy normal food again. Gertrúd was heard entering the room and she placed a few dishes neatly on the table.   
She reminded him to bring the coasters out and set up a kettle of water for some tea. Her son obeyed and prepared the small table in the sitting room with saucers and tea cups. Then he returned to his mother and saw her placing lids on the pots she had been stirring.

Satisfied with her handiwork she asked Oswald to take a seat with her on the couch to wait for their guest.   
He politely accompanied his mother by holding out an arm where she could link hers and both strode a few steps towards the sitting room. Both took a seat and waited quietly for the doorbell to ring. One was visually giddy and excited to introduce their guest to her son,   
the other was unhappy and looked at the wall clock with a pouty face.

A few minutes later the doorbell rang and Oswald dreaded the moment where his mother got up to buzz her invited guest through. He stayed seated, but eyed the door inquisitively. Any moment now would he know who would enjoy a delicious lunch with them.

Gertrúd called out to her son. “She a nice girl, you will see!,” she said gleefully and barely noticed how Oswald momentarily stiffened.

A memory of his mother describing a decent girl for dating was triggered and his heart rate increased.   
He inwardly begged that the ground below him would swallow him whole and make him disappear. The tea kettle whistled and Oswald fled towards the kitchen in gratitude for the little respite the postponement of the moment offered. Gertrúd opened the door as dainty steps could be heard. Katherine's frame entered the doorway and she politely greeted Gertrúd. The older lady hugged the taller woman and welcomed her inside.

The blonde looked around and saw the inviting sitting room which had been prepared. Oswald was nowhere to be seen as he had closed the door of the kitchen when he hid. Gertrúd softly implored Katherine to take a seat in the armchair next to the couch to make herself comfortable.

“I am so happy you are here, my dear. Thank you for joining us. My son is making tea, so he will be back soon.”

The younger woman took a look around and noticed a number of old fashioned keepsakes.   
“You have a lovely home, Gertrúd. And I look forward to finally meeting your son.”

The old lady smiled and remarked cheekily, “Well you can already see him on this picture here, but it is two years old. He has changed a little.”

She pointed to the picture frame on a tiny table next to the armchair. Katherine turned her head and looked at the photograph of a slightly younger Oswald who looked like a dapper red cheeked school boy. Katherine flinched visibly and continued to stare at the picture.

Gertrúd looked at her worried and asked, “My dear, is everything alright?”

The blonde swiftly glanced at the woman next to her and nervously replied, “Yes, of course. I...I was o-only surprised to see how… handsome he looks!”

Gertrúd smiled at her and gently touched her hand.   
“You are sweet girl. Any moment now, you will meet my good boy.”

In the meantime Oswald had put everything on a small tray and listened at the conversation through the door. He couldn't make out the entirety of the words, but understood they were speaking English. More relieved than before he decided that this moment would be as good as any to welcome his mother's guest. With a soft push he nudged open the door and carried the tray into the sitting room. Slowly raising his head from the teapot, sugar, and small biscuits, he nearly jumped and dropped everything when he saw the familiar blonde.

Oswald's jaw dropped to the ground and his eyes rushed over her tasteful clothes, her pretty hair, and her somehow nervous looking face. Gertrúd stood up to meet her son and took the tray from him. Oswald just stared at the two of them dumbfounded and didn't know what to say or do. Before he could decide he was cut off by his mother who introduced her guest to him.   
The moment the young lady looked up she mirrored Oswald's expression, but covered her gaping lips with her hand. Her eyes were wide and both of them stared at each other. Gertrúd's words didn't seem to reach them until Oswald was poked in the ribs by his short mother.

He woke up from his stupor and regarded her and she said, “Don't be rude! Introduce yourself!”

Then she turned to Katherine had stood up. Oswald's face only expressed helplessness and he slowly began to speak between clenched teeth.

“Hello. I am Oswald.”

Katherine her face still a mask of surprise monotonously replied, “Nice to meet you…”

Gertrúd motioned both of them to sit and enjoy some tea with her. The two of them complied and silently stared into different directions to not let their eyes meet. The old lady poured some tea into each cup and retold the story how Katherine had chosen Oswald's gift.

“She knew which book you would like! And helped me get your gift for you. Isn't it lovely, Oswald?”

The young man looked into his tea cup and took a small sip while carefully responding. “Very delightful, Mother. I do enjoy that book.”

The blonde gripped the saucer of her cup a little too tightly as she smiled and added, “I am pleased to hear that.”

An awkward silence fell into the room when nobody said a word. Then Oswald spoke up. “Mother, would you mind if I showed Katherine our library?”

Gertrúd almost replied immediately, “Of course not, my boy! While you show her around I will check the goulash!”

Enthusiastically she stood and beelined for the kitchen. The second his mother was out of ear shot, Oswald jumped towards Katherine and forcefully gripped her arm and whispered threateningly.

“What are you doing here?! Did you befriend my mother on purpose?”

His eyes focused on the intimated blonde who looked at him in shock. “How could you think that?!”, she replied quietly.   
“I didn't know she was YOUR mother! Besides she never mentioned your name! I only heard 'my boy’ or 'my son’ whenever she spoke about you!”

Her cheeks flushed angrily as did Oswald's when he continued his interrogation. “I don't believe you! It's... it's…”

“A crazy coincidence?,” Katherine finished. “Now let go of my arm! You're hurting me.”

The black haired man released his grip, but folded his arms defensively. He scowled at her when he said, “Come. We'll talk.”

She eyed him for a moment and reluctantly followed him. Katherine rubbed the spot Oswald had held on to and examined his back sceptically. They halted at a row of bookshelves aligned in a longer hallway leading to the bedrooms. Oswald watched the slightly shorter woman examine their books. Her face revealed great interest when she skimmed the titles. His anger towards her lightened when she saw her smirk at a book she had recognized. With a furrowed brow he addressed her again.

“See something you like?,” he asked.

She replied calmly. “I saw one of my favorite books. Didn't expect it in your collection.”

Oswald's curiosity took over and he sighed lowly with impatience. “Which one is it?”

Katherine arched an eyebrow at him. “No interrogative tone? Weren't you about to accuse me of tricking your mother into inviting me, only to take advantage of you?!,” she finished exasperatedly.

Oswald held up a hand to shush her. “Fine! I will suspend judgement until later.”

She rolled her eyes at him and defiantly folded her arms across her chest. Her pout was almost endearing.   
“I might have exaggerated, but you must admit it was a shock to both of us.”

Katherine nodded calmly and looked back to the bookshelf. Her face appeared gentler and she pulled out a frilly old paperback.

“It's 'Pride and Prejudice’ by the way.”

Oswald regarded the book she held in her hands. “Must be one of my mother's.” He didn't recall reading it and asked for it, to read the back cover. A classical love story he surmised.

“Didn't know you were an old romantic.”

“Aren't you one, too?,” Katherine retorted.

At this he thought for a moment and tried to understand why she would think so. His life was far from romantic, something he didn't mind since it didn't have the chance to divert him.

“Why do you say so?,” he asked.

“It's simple. You have a love for the traditional, an admiration for the past, and classical. Your speech, your style, and your tastes convey it.”

Her rather philosophical approach to her question calmed him down a little. He had never felt comfortable talking about his romantic inclinations towards people.   
A past suspicion revealed to him that he wasn't even sure if he had them.

“I see what you mean. Yes, in that sense I am an old romantic, I suppose.”

“And in the other?” Her eyes looked into him as if they were tracing for any kind of reaction he would give. Oswald managed to hide his discomfort not entirely.

“I would say 'no’ to that.”

He handed her the book back and she put it back into the lower part of the shelf. Oswald hoped to move on to another topic and Katherine seemed to get the hint.   
“Well, it's a good read. Give it a try sometime.”

He watched her crouched down as she regarded other books which peaked her interest. In this moment he asked himself if there was romance in Katherine's world. Did she have a lover? Or somebody who she had feelings for? Since she was involved in Fish's business he couldn't imagine her having a regular relationship. Especially with the work hours they had. What he could imagine was her being in a relationship before she started working for Fish. A thought that caused a tinge of jealousy to his surprise. The voice of his mother made the two of them look down the hallway.

“Oswald, Katherine! Please come eat! The food is ready!,” she sang. “And wash your hands!”

Oswald showed the blonde where the guest bathroom was and went into the kitchen to wash his hands. Then he waited for Katherine to enter the dining room and take a seat before he sat down himself. Gertrúd smiled at Oswald and Katherine and wished an enjoyable meal to both of them. His mother explained the dishes she put on their guest's plate and showed her which foods were usually eaten together. Oswald's irritation subsided substantially when he observed their interaction.

It delighted him to see his mother happily chatting away about her native cooking. Katherine asked genuine questions about the origin of specific spices or their regional availability. Gertrúd was well versed in the art of her cuisine and explained everything in detail.   
Even Oswald never asked her this intently about her cooking before, so he just listened and relished each bite with newfound knowledge. Katherine put her fork down and turned to Oswald.

“I just remembered… How come your surname is ‘Cobblepot’ and your mother's is 'Kapelput’?”

He briefly eyed his mother to see if she would explain. Her open palm motioned for him to speak.   
“Well, my mother chose it, because it is easier to pronounce and thus would help me integrate into American society.”

The young woman smiled at him in understanding.   
“I see. Then your mother did the same what my grandfather did.”

She turned to Gertrúd to elaborate. “My grandfather's name was originally 'Krah’ before he changed it to 'Crowe’. He came from Germany.”

The old lady looked impressed. “Oh! I have been to Bavaria to visit part of family! Europe is so different from America.”

Katherine lightly shrugged her shoulders. “I wouldn't know since I have never been to Europe. But perhaps one day for vacation would be nice.”

Oswald took a sip of his drink and asked the woman sitting across from him, “Does the name 'Krah’ mean anything? The names don't sound very similar.”

The blonde smirked. “It's the sound of a crow in German. They say 'Krah!’ 'Krah!’.”

Both turned towards Gertrúd who had giggled a little at Katherine's revelation. “Your grandfather is a funny man!”

The blonde's expression softened. “He was,” she corrected. “He passed when I was a child.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. But he would be happy to know that his grand-daughter cherishes his memory.”

Gertrúd proposed a small toast and they clinked their glasses together. The three of them drank and enjoyed the rest of the meal. Oswald nearly forgot the excitement of an hour ago, when he saw how pleasant the afternoon had turned out. A cautious part of him considered the situation as too good to be true and estimated that Katherine had ulterior motives.

Sometimes it was exhausting to be so sceptical all the time, but he had to protect himself and more importantly his mother from any possible harm.   
The hours passed quickly and they found themselves back in the sitting room enjoying another cup of tea.

It was Katherine who eventually said, “Thank you very much for your hospitality. But I think I must leave quite soon. Work is calling me I'm afraid.”

Gertrúd patted her shoulder tenderly and told her that she understood. Oswald had often enough left for work under similar circumstances.   
“It was wonderful having you, my dear. Please come visit again.”

She turned to her son. “Oswald, could you please walk Katherine to the subway? It is getting late…”

He stood up and approvingly said, “Yes, of course, Mother.”

Oswald waited for his mother and Katherine to exchange goodbyes. Then he helped the blonde into her coat.   
With slight embarrassment he admitted to himself that he liked the way she smelled. It was not overpowering, but subtle making him want to move in closer to smell it more clearly. He quickly dismissed the thought as he told his mother that he would return shortly. They left the apartment and stood in front of the building to head towards the subway station.

Katherine looked ahead when she said, “Your mother is an incredible cook! I don't understand how you can stay this slim!”  
  
Amused at her question Oswald smirked and replied,   
“I guess it is because I mostly eat only once or twice a day.” He put his hands in his pockets. “It’s very filling.”

Katherine audibly approved and played with one of the buttons of her coat.   
She hesitated before saying, “I am sorry if I ambushed you with my visit today. I probably would have reacted the same way.”

“How come?,” Oswald asked.

“I think we both are very protective of our families. I saw it with you and your mother today.”

The black haired man looked to the side feeling guilty. “About that-”

“It's fine, Oswald. Water under the bridge.”

He gave her a small smile and thought about their awkward encounter this afternoon. In hindsight he had overreacted he thought. The subway station came into view and the two of them stopped at the top of the stairs.

Oswald addressed Katherine, “I appreciate you being friendly and kind to my mother. Thank you for spending time with her this afternoon.”

“Oh, Oswald. It was a pleasure. She has a very sweet personality and it was cute how she was doting on you. Talking about your recent successes at your job.”

A flash of unsettling surprise crossed his face. “You didn't tell her about my position at Fish's, right?”

“No, Oswald. Only ‘civilian friendly’ content, if you get what I mean. It should be you, explaining to her what you are really doing.”

He considered her proposal, but asked a question in return. “Do your parents know?”

She only nodded soberly and said, “That is a story for another time.”

Her gaze met his for a long time. “It can make your life easier, you know. You don't have to lie to your mother. Or at least not that frequently.”

Oswald's expression grew dark. “It is not that simple, Katherine. You don't know anything about our situation!,” he said defensively.

She tensed up slightly when she saw the hurt in his eyes. “I apologize, I didn't mean to meddle in your personal affairs. It’s a decision that you must make.   
But may I make you an offer?”

Her concern settled his temper to a degree and he was interested what her intention was.   
“Let's hear it.”

“Merely one thing. You can tell me any truth you wish to share without the fear of being judged. I promise.”

“Why are you granting me this promise?”

Katherine gave Oswald a genuine smile. “We are conspirators, remember? Also, it can provide a sense of freedom. Think about it.”

The young man regarded her for a moment and nodded after short consideration. It didn't feel impossible to confide in the blonde woman. Shortly after they exchanged goodbyes and Katherine descended the steps down to the subway station. Oswald sighed and strode back to his home to prepare for the evening. He was sure that Fish would give him new reasons to lie to his mother fairly soon.

 


	16. The Offer

The lock gave a satisfying click when she turned the key to get inside. The door swung open smoothly and Katherine entered the hallway leading to the living room.

Her mother's voice reached her ears when she said, “Katherine, is that you?”

The blonde called out to her standing in front of the wardrobe. “Yes, it is me. I will be there in a moment, I need to change first.”

She quickly ducked into her room to undress from her classy clothes and put on her cleaning lady outfit.   
Luckily there would be no need to wait the tables tonight. She was behind on her cleaning schedule anyway and definitely needed to get back on track with it. Minutes later she went into the living room to greet her mother who was sitting at the secretary writing in her journal as usual. Katherine took a seat in a chair next to it, to face the older woman. Elizabeth put down her pen and looked at her daughter.

“How was lunch with… was it Gertrúd?”

“It was very pleasant, although it had a bumpy start.”

This intrigued Elizabeth and she urged her daughter to recount the meeting. Katherine returned the smile and briefly summed up the events of the last few hours.   
Her mother even laughed when she explained how Oswald had revealed himself as Gertrúd's son. It was rare to hear her mother laugh this freely. She even considered to tell her about Oswald's hangover episode which had been amusing in hindsight. But it wouldn't have been fair to humiliate him for entertainment purposes.

An idea came to her and she scooted closer to her mother. “Mom, can I ask you something? How do you make somebody trust you?”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in curiosity and appeared to think of a good answer. “Someone? Or do you mean Oswald?”

Katherine huffed in resignation. “I guess it is obvious. You know by now that we see each other often at work.”

Her mother grabbed her hand affectionately and took a small breath. “I assume that the trust you give him is not equally returned?”

“It is as you say. Am I naive for trusting him?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I am not sure if naive is the word I would use. You haven't given your trust to many in the past, but when you did you always had a good reason for it. I might not fully grasp what you see in him, but I trust your judgement.”

The younger woman squeezed her mother's hand in return. “Thanks, Mom. It feels good to hear it.”

Her mother looked to their entangled hands and took a shallow breath.

“But I am still worried for you. You're involved in risky business since the moment your father and I decided to tell you the truth about our aspirations. I still fear it wasn't the wisest choice. Even though you have carried yourself better than we have.”

Katherine looked into her mother's sad eyes and tried to sound encouraging.  
“I know you and Dad are worried. But I also made my decision. This is the path I walk now and I feel that Oswald can be the accomplice I need to reach the end of it.”

“It can also end in betrayal, my little bee,” the older woman said somberly. “You’ve told me that you have already shared secrets which can be very dangerous. Right now, each of you could betray the other by exposing them and only a flimsy agreement is stopping you from doing it.”

Her tone became more serious. A slight tremble moved through her lower arm.  
“This reminds me to ask you again why you told him about your day job? He’s closer to Fish than ever.”

Katherine looked at her hand in her mother’s grasp and lowly said, “I told him, because I trusted him in that moment. I believe I can gain Oswald's trust when I show him that I feel comfortable telling him something very personal.”

“But that might not be the way he thinks about you, Katherine. The moment you stepped into his home, you became a possible threat to him and his mother. And he will worry about that from now on.”

She searched her daughter’s eyes for a spark of comprehension and found it.

The blonde asked, “Then how do I stop this tango of trust issues? I believe that we can help each other, but there needs to be more clarity.”

Katherine sat up a little straighter and pointed towards herself. “I learned that it is nearly impossible to walk the dark path alone, Mom. Fish relies on Butch, Dad and you have the same goals. Oswald and I share the same vision. Why shouldn't we work together and be stronger?”

Elizabeth gave her a sceptical look. “And do you think he requires help?”

For a minute or so none of them spoke until the younger woman replied in a thoughtful tone.   
“If you knew in which trouble he has been, he will need my help even more when he wants to rise.”

The older woman smirked, but her face turned serious in an instant. “Then let me give you a word of advice. If you choose that man as your ally then be sure you can be careless around him. Real trust allows you to do that.   
If not, it will cost you dearly, like it cost me!”

Elizabeth seized the covered stump of her right arm stopping shortly after the elbow. Katherine flinched at her dark gesture.

“I always wished to shield you from the mistakes your father and I made in our attempt to achieve more than we could get through conventional means. But you need to learn your own lessons.”

She released her grip and balled her fist on her lap. Katherine looked at her with wide eyes, shocked at her current display of emotions.

“I know you have the potential to do great things, Katherine. You are the most ambitious person I know. Choose YOUR path.”

Touched by her mother's words, Katherine gave her a big hug and thanked her for the pep talk. She did feel better and decided it was a good time to leave for work.   
A quarter hour earlier wouldn't hurt. After saying her goodbyes Katherine left the apartment and the building to go to the subway. There was an empty seat in her car for her to sit and ponder about her mother's words. There was a time in her past where her father had sat her down to explain the circumstances which had caused the loss of her mother's arm. It had been a constant reminder of their criminal outing as a family and it had changed her view on the world.

.

The night had been cold her memory revealed when she came home from partying earlier than usual. Her alcohol induced mind hadn't noticed the splashes of blood on the floor when she had entered her home. It was her routine to sneak into her room in the dark back then.   
But that time was different, because the living room light had been on to draw her attention. Her eighteen year old self had slowly stepped into the light to see her father kneeling in front of a dead man sobbing. She had froze in terror, staring at the mangled up body, at the blood and bits of flesh that cluttered the table and the ground, and the large kitchen knife which lay bloodied in her father's hand. Katherine had wanted to scream, but her voice couldn't leave her pent up chest. She had merely shrunk back and gawked at her father snapping for air to breathe. Finally she had brought out a single high pitched word.

“Daaad?!”

Anton's head shot up staring at the young girl with wide eyes. He had stood up and shakily taken a step forward with outstretched arms.

.

A rough rattling sound shook Katherine back to the present. Her heart jumped to her chest and she took a few deep breaths to settle the fluttering sensation. Rubbing her temples tenderly she checked the stop the train was currently holding at. Still four stops to go.   
It made her sad to think that her recent talk with her mother had triggered bad memories. She wished there was a way to find closure. But as long as the Maroni and Falcone crime families were on friendly terms there was no chance she or her father would get away with dealing with the man who maimed her mother.

Katherine remembered how she and her father would plot different ways to make him pay as soon as the opportunity would present itself. The scheming had helped to relieve the pain, the shame, and the hatred they have felt. There was a remainder left, a screw that could be turned to make the whole machinery running again to give them the drive to exact their revenge.   
This emotion which she rarely showed, scared her on occasion, but also offered strength.

The electric sound of the opening doors reminded her to get off the train and enter the platform of her destination stop. She sped up the stairs on to the street to make her way to the back entrance of Mooney's Nightclub. The honking of a delivery truck and the bustling workers shoving boxes into the building covered the sound of Katherine's follower moving in closer and hiding in the shadows.

  
All restrooms were squeaky clean after Katherine wiped down the last sink in the ladies restroom. Her focused work methods had shortened her to do list immensely and a sense of achievement spread inside of her. Housekeeping was not her favorite activity, but there was no denying the visual effect it entailed when you reached your goal for the day. She could sit at Mr. Parkins’ books for hours and it wouldn't look like she had done something. A few hours of cleaning and even a layman could see that she did her work well.

A small sigh of exhaustion escaped her lips when she exited the rooms to wrap up for the evening.   
The remaining items on her list could easily be covered tomorrow before her next waitress shift would begin. Would Oswald also work as a bartender aid again and prepare her orders? The black haired man hadn't crossed her path this evening yet and it looked like he wouldn't. It was likely that an errand had called him away or that his shift would begin much later. Either way she was sure she wasn't going to see him tonight and decided to pack her cleaning gear away. She emptied dirty water from the bucket, briefly washed it out, and then put her utensils inside.

Looking forward to the end of her work day she nearly skipped out of the restroom. Light footed she crossed the wooden floors of the hall and neared the back entrance leading to the staff rooms. Almost at the edge of the doorframe a musical voice caught her attention.

“Oh, Cinderella…,” it chimed and Katherine turned towards the origin.

She was surprised to hear Fish using her nickname and she instantly began to worry. Sometimes it was difficult to tell if it was cause for joy or for despair. Hopefully it was the former, putting her boss in a good mood.   
Her quick steps reached Fish who sat inside a booth cross legged nursing a glass of scotch. She was dressed in her usual impeccable fashion and sized up the younger woman with her big beautiful eyes.

“Take a seat, baby girl. Mama wants to talk!”

Her posture looked relaxed as he propped up her head on the back of her hand. The blonde sat down and waited for Mama to speak.

“I watched you.”

Katherine's heart skipped a beat, but she kept it hidden behind her mask of neutrality.

“How you handled yourself when I threw you into unknown waters. You did better than I expected and that is something I like to see more of. You've been with me for a while now, and you always delivered what you promised. That is an excellent trait to have.”

The longer pause allowed the blonde to express herself. “Thank you for your praise, Miss Mooney.”

She put a smile on her face to emphasize the flair of gratefulness.

“I got another feeling,” continued the gorgeous woman. “That it would be a waste to let you clean toilets, if you got a bright mind in that head of yours.”

Fish traced the edge of her glass with her finger.   
“I was told about the patron who tried to screw you over. You put the numbers together quicker than he could open his stupid trap.”

Katherine had almost forgotten about the incident.   
She inwardly prayed that it didn't give Fish the wrong idea to investigate her background more deeply.

“A young woman like you could become someone under my guiding hand. Why should we let the boys have all the fun around here?”

Fish leaned over and looked lasciviously at the young woman. This offer was an opportunity for Katherine to get into the inner circle of the business she always wanted to have insight in. It would involve closer scrutiny on all her activities, also the job she had in the day time. She heard her father once say, “Only those who are willing to risk something drink champagne.” But that had been when her mother still had two arms.

After careful consideration she asked, “If I accept your offer, would you want me to continue cleaning up crime scenes?”

Her boss regarded her intently. “Yes. Until you find or train somebody trustworthy to replace you.”

She assumed Fish would say something like this, since a good cleaner was not easy to come by. But how would she explain Mr. Parkins that she would need to reduce her hours and be less available for him? The woman across from her waited for an answer, but she got another question instead.

“Would you need me to kill?” Fish stopped smiling.

“You kill if it is necessary. Always.” A lavishly manicured finger pointed at the quaint looking woman.

“If you’re doubting yourself… There's a fix for it.”

“I see, Miss Mooney. I was asking because of-”  
  
“Richie.” Fish interjected. “I get it, 'twas an ugly thing. But he stole from me and that son of a bitch didn't deserve better. It was necessary. But that is only a small part. My offer is more money and more power. Sooo… what do you say?”

Katherine held her boss’ intense gaze and replied, “I am very tempted, Miss Mooney.” She put on her smile she would use to appease her father when he demanded something she didn't like to agree to.   
“But I am a person who considers before acting. Therefore I would like to ask you to give me time until tomorrow night, before I give you my answer.”

There was a glint of disappointment in the older woman's eyes, but it disappeared in an instant.   
“I can respect that. Knowing the thoughtful person you are. Go home and sleep on it. When you come in tomorrow meet me in my office.”

This time Katherine didn't have to force a genuine smile. “Thank you, Miss Mooney. I will do as you ask. Goodnight.”

The addressed woman nodded her head in appreciation and faced her drink to pick it up and drink a sip.   
The blonde turned away and went into her cleaning chamber to change. She thought about Fish's offer and decided to ask her parents for advice. Her father knew Mr. Parkins and would probably know how to convince the man to give her more leeway with her future work schedule. After a quick glance into the small mirror she had on the wall, she adjusted the headscarf and departed from the small room. On her way out she passed Oswald's tiny office which was still empty.   
Should she tell him about the offer? Would he be upset if he found out from Fish? Knowing the crime lady she wouldn't feel obligated to tell anyone about it.

Katherine left through the back entrance of the club and entered the dark alley connecting to the street.   
There was a henchman of Butch carrying a suitcase from one of the parked cars and he nodded to her in greeting. She returned it and rounded the corner to step into one of the hazy street lights. Two blocks further a low crunch of broken glass could be heard. This startled Katherine and she spun around immediately. Before she could fully grasp what had caused the sound, a taller figure appeared and strongly pushed her into a larger alcove.

The blonde's head met a stone wall and the force of the impact created stars in her eyes. Falling forward to the ground she could make out two slim booted feet.   
Quicky she tried to push herself up to see her attacker, but before she could fully stand she received a kick in the gut and bent over. She collapsed onto the ground coughing and looked up to see her assailant.

Katherine gasped audibly when she saw Casey looming over her with a fury torn expression on her face.

“Hello, bitch!,” the black dressed woman said.

“Took you long enough to clean that dump!”

She stepped closer and her victim scooted towards a trash can to prop herself up.

“What *cough* do you want?!,” the blonde tried to yell, but was only able to let out a dry rasp.

“Oh, me? Your evil stepmother sent me to punish you for being very bad!” She pulled up Katherine from her position and pushed her to the wall, holding her there.   
A shudder went through her as she looked at Casey's smiling face.

“What do you mean? You're not making sense!,” Katherine insisted.

A thought crossed her mind and she hoped to get her attacker talking.

“I'm not making sense?! Then let me remind you!”

Casey flipped open a switchblade with her other free hand which she had concealed in her sleeve. The shiny surface reflected the light of a nearby street lamp.   
Her knife pointed towards Katherine's chest.

“You and your creep friend took out MY Richie!”

Surprised the blonde interjected, “Why do you say that?! I didn't-”

“Shut up!,” screamed Casey and smacked the blonde over her face.

“You and emo boy walked in on us! Richie thought he hid in time, but I had a bad feeling all along! I should have known that you would rat us out!”

Genuinely her victim responded, “But, we didn't-”

“Stop lying! You told on us! Butch and his thugs came to MY home and looked for me. They trashed the place and took all the money Richie earned! Hadn't my neighbor warned me, I wouldn't have the chance to pay you back!”

The knife settled on Katherine's collarbone in an instant, too fast for the hurt and startled blonde to react.

“After I've slit your throat, I'll visit Penguin and do the same to h-” a wooden plank hit Casey in the back of the head and she fell to the side dropping her knife.

A strained voice exclaimed, “I don't like THAT name!”

Her ears tingled from the familiarity of the intonation and Katherine looked for her protector.

“Oswald!,” she called out. Without thinking she scrambled up and hugged the man still holding the plank.

He didn't return her gesture, instead he watched the former dancer sprawled on the ground slowly holding her head moaning. Gently he pushed the blonde to the side to bend down and pick up the knife. Katherine watched him examining the knife and her blood run cold.

His expression was serious. “Aren't you angry, Katherine?,” he asked in a low tone.

“Tired of being harassed by bullies like her?”

Katherine stepped next to him looking at Casey who was still writhing from the pain. A sense of excitement and resentment stirred in her. It wasn't only Casey lying there in her eyes.

Her tormentor slowly got up on her knees and said,   
“You’re both dead you sick fucks!”

Oswald handed her the knife and whispered. “You know she will talk if she gets away. It's necessary to take care of her.” He nodded and folded his arms across his chest observing what she was about to do.

Her brown eyes searched his blue ones and she gripped the knife tightly.   
“It is necessary, isn't it?”

Her voice sounded colder than she had ever heard it and a strange calmness overcame her body. Casey was nearly up on her feet when Katherine examined the knife.   
A need to silence her attacker was growing with every passing second. A desire to make her stop hurting and insulting her.  
Katherine shook with emotion as she held up Casey's knife. She desperately wanted to return the pain she had felt over the years every time she felt miserable from being powerless.

Casey stood on her shaky legs bleeding from her temple with murderous intent in her eyes. Her eyes rushed to the shorter woman.

“Do you know how to use that, blondie?,” she snickered. “Let me show you!”

Casey jumped forward to tackle the shorter woman, but didn't expect the blonde to grab her jacket. Katherine twisted them both around and used Casey's momentum to slam her against the wall. Casey wasn't affected too much by it and swung her fist into the shorter woman's face. It connected, but weakly and Katherine pulled the dancer closer to shove the knife into the dancer's side. Both women gasped at the same time. The brunette from the painful sting of the blade and Katherine from finally doing what she feared to do all along. Casey took a step back holding the bloody wound and leaned against the brick wall. Her eyes were wide open and staring into the brown ones of her attacker.   
Without further hesitation Katherine stabbed the dancer again. This time showing even less emotion. Casey stiffened in shock and stared at the cold demeanor of her former victim.

Oswald neared Katherine carefully and put a hand on her upper arm. “You need to finish it.”

Almost mechanical she nodded and watched how all the fight had left Casey and she was slowly sliding to the ground. Not too long and she would die from blood loss. It wouldn't be a peaceful death. Because of this Katherine covered Casey's mouth and quickly cut into the carotid artery. The dancer only protested for a second before she lost consciousness. The blood flowed from the wound in warm waves coating the knife and Katherine's hand. She dropped it and stood up to turn away from Casey's lifeless body. Shaking from the thrill of her most recent kill, she went to Oswald and demanded in a cold tone, “Help me with the body.”

Her mind felt blank and clear, knowing that she had protected herself from further harm which Casey could have caused. Her tormentor was gone from the canvas, leaving her behind as the victor in their long fight with each other. An overwhelming need to make her mess disappear hit her and she headed towards her bag to delicately pull out a rag to clean her hands. As soon as the person known as Casey was gone, there was only a husk to dispose of left behind. The cold rationality of her thoughts clouded her underlying realization that she has become a killer. Her professional skills as a cleaner took over and began her handiwork she was known for.

Oswald stepped next to her and performed her exact demands to wrap the body in some foil Katherine had found. It wasn't much, but it would do until the pick up would arrive.

“Oswald, do you have a phone?”

He looked at her quizzically. “I do, but why do you need it?”

The blonde rationally explained, “I will call the guy who picked up Richie. Seems only fair to Casey.”

It chilled her, how easily it came from her lips, but seeing Oswald's pleased expression eased her concerns.   
He handed her the phone and she quickly dialed the number she knew by heart. It didn't take long before they negotiated pay and the terms of the pick up.   
She hung up and returned the phone to the black haired man who had a strange glint in his eyes.

Katherine's face flushed a little when she asked,   
“Excuse me, Oswald. Could you please turn around for a moment? I need to do something I don't want you to see.”

The taller man faced away at once, but added,   
“You don't have to feel embarrassed about anything.   
I wouldn't judge you. Especially now.”

The blonde opened the top of her coat and reached into the inside of her shirt to pull out a wad of cash from the inside of her bra. Her secret storage had prevented more than one successful mugging.

After restoring the state of her clothing she said, “Thanks, Oswald. It's nothing like that.”

She touched his shoulder to turn him around.   
“I just didn't want you to see where I hide my cash.”

She winked and held up the money in her hand.   
“It's enough to pay him for tonight.”

Oswald smirked at her saying, “You're full of surprises, Katherine. Didn't know you were this prepared.”

“My father always says ‘Proper planning prevents piss poor performance’.”

He nodded approvingly and put his hands in his pockets. They stood in silence looking at each other while waiting for the cleaner to arrive. The memory of dealing with Casey began to move back into the periphery of Katherine's mind. She was expecting some kind of irrational reaction after killing for the first time, but she only felt strangely numb. Then she remembered to ask Oswald why he had been there in the first place.   
The initial shock had worn off and her mind felt a little clearer.

He said, “I saw you leave and thought you shouldn't walk to the subway on your own.”

A spark of doubt grew inside her.

“Then why did you hide from me?”

His elusiveness not to answer her directly caused her to question him further.

“When did you notice Casey following me? And why did you watch her beat me up before you stepped in?”

Now she felt her temper rising and also remembered what Casey had said.  
“Did you tell Fish and Butch about Richie's connection to Casey?”

Oswald shrunk back from her accusing gaze and sighed deeply. His brows arched downward when he confessed, “I followed you and noticed Casey lying in wait far too late. When she attacked you I was considering stepping in, but…”

“But, what, Oswald?!”

“I wanted to see how you would deal with her. And yes I informed Fish and Butch. I didn't think it would lead to this.”

Katherine became visibly upset and slapped her palm across her forehead.

“Seriously now! Couldn't you have told me?”

“I'm sorry Katherine, it didn't occur to me at that time.”

Swallowing her frustration she moved closer to him with shiny eyes.   
“I am very grateful for you stepping in, before she could hurt me lethally, but I wished you had done something sooner.”

Oswald put his hands on her upper arms and said,   
“I apologize for that. But I wanted you to experience what I have experienced when I fought Richie. Didn't it make you feel something you haven't felt before?”

She was angry with him, but had to admit to herself that he was right. This moment had revealed a part of her she didn't feel comfortable examining.

“But you still haven't explained why you followed me in the first place, Oswald. What are you not telling me?”

The slightly taller man released his hands from her and began to turn away, but the blonde held on to his jacket, keeping him in place.

“Please, tell me. Do you remember my promise?”

He searched her eyes and said, “I wanted to follow you home, to find out where you and your parents lived. So that we are even.”

The shame in his voice made her disappointment feel real, but she didn't let him go. Instead she paused for a moment and gathered all the patience she could muster.

“I would have told you where I lived, if you had asked. No need for secrecy. But I think I understand why you did it.”

Oswald fidgeted with his hands. “Are you upset?”

“A little, but what good would it do to be upset with my savior.”

She felt a small smile forming around her lips and she felt the urge to show her gratitude. Oswald was caught by surprise as the blonde gave him a hug and a chaste kiss on his cheek. The young man gingerly returned the embrace and both let go. None of them spoke for a few moments. Oswald was about to say something, but was interrupted by the cleaner who arrived in a long car.  
Katherine gave him the money and a little extra to make sure he would also wipe away the blood which had collected on the ground. It was an emotionless transaction and soon all reminders of the fight were gone. After the cleaner left, Katherine and Oswald went their separate ways. She made sure to watch him walk away from her, so he wouldn't follow.

 


	17. The Gesture Of Apology

Oswald stared at the plate of food before him which his mother had prepared. It was early in the afternoon and the tiny family shared the comfort of a meal together. Gertrúd was in good spirits, since she got to spend some quality time with her only son who had been very busy the past few days. But it didn't take long before Oswald's pensive face was noticed by his mother.

“What is wrong, Oswald? You don't like your Palacsinta? I make your favorite!”

His tired eyes turned on her blue worried ones and he replied, “No, Mother. It's delicious!”

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes and his mother continued. “You are not eating! Tell Mama what bothers you!”

She paused for a moment and whispered, “Are the bullies at it again?”

Oswald put his fork down and hesitated for a moment. “No, Mother, it's not the bullies, it's… something I did a few days ago… I think I hurt a friend.”

Curiosity and puzzlement washed over the old lady's features. “Oh, Oswald. I know you are a good boy.   
It can't be so bad.”

Her son eyed his plate and pushed it aside to rest his elbows on the table. “Mom,... what do you do when you hurt a friend?”

She contemplated his question for moment and then responded, “If I was wrong, I apologize and then do something very nice for them. So they cannot be angry with me anymore.”

She gave Oswald a cute wink and took one of his hands to give it an affectionate squeeze. “Whose feelings did you hurt?”

His mouth became a thin line and he averted his gaze.   
“Katherine's, I think. She hasn't come to work for a few days now… I didn't mean to do it.”

Gertrúd gave her son an encouraging look. “Oh, I know you didn't. Let Mama help you!”

She let go of him and went into the kitchen. Slightly confused he got up as well and followed her. He watched as she placed a few Palacsinta on a paper plate and put some aluminum foil on top to cover it. Then she put it into a small paper bag and handed it to him.

“Here, my boy. Go by the bookstore where Katherine works and give her the Palacsinta! She will love them and forgive you for whatever you did!”

Touched by his mother's sweet nature Oswald smiled and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you, Mom. You always know the answer to my problems.”

Gertrúd made a small curtsey. “That's a mother’s talent!”

Oswald took the paper bag eagerly and went to the wardrobe to put on a light coat. Then he remembered the package he had left in his room and went to retrieve it. While standing next to his closet and opening its doors, he thought of the last moment he had shared with Katherine. She had surprised him with her hug and her quick kiss. That display of affection had felt nice,   
but it had made him quite anxious as well. It had been a friendly gesture, but nothing he had received before by a person other than his mother. After their last meeting he had hoped to deepen the new connection they had found with each other. But her absence suggested that something had gone wrong. Now he was unsure of how to approach her after hurting her trust.

He picked up the thick envelope and hurried back to the dining room to say goodbye to Gertrúd. Then he headed towards the entrance door and left the apartment.   
On his walk to Mr. Parkins’ bookstore he thought of the night on the street where he watched Katherine undergo her own rite of initiation. It felt wrong to tell her then that he had found her strength not to break down and panic, beautiful in the moment of her killing, but he felt she would have taken it the wrong way.

Unfortunately, he had no experience with how to treat friends or give them comfort when they were undergoing difficult times. All the words he wanted to say and been left unsaid. He hoped there would be an opportunity to tell her how much closer he felt to her after she had proven to him that she could do what was necessary on their path to power. His half serious drunken self came to mind who told her he would be her ally. Today would be the moment where he could fully commit to it.

A quarter hour later Oswald saw the owner and his employee standing in the store talking while holding a few books in their arms. He decided to watch them a little longer, in hope Mr. Parkins would leave the blonde's side. Fortune appeared to favor Oswald today when he saw the broad man leave about ten minutes later.   
He exited the store with a small suitcase and reminded Katherine to expect the call of a Mrs. Nohara.   
Oswald waited for him to disappear from his eyesight and then approached the store himself. Anxiously he slowly opened the door which chimed lightly to make his presence known. The black haired man saw how Katherine was making a few notes on a notepad and didn't see him right away.

“Hello, please come in and have a look around. I will be with you shortly,” she said politely.

Oswald came closer and studied her with her open blonde hair over her shoulders looking pretty in the long sleeved dress she was wearing. It occurred to him that in the time he'd known her he hadn't seen her wear any pants. Not once. He pushed the thought aside when she lifted her head and was visibly startled to see him.

“Oh, he-hello Oswald! What are you doing here?”

She looked at him carefully and put the pen down and waited for his response.

“Hello, Katherine. It's good to see you. I didn't see you at work the last few days, so I thought…”

“I asked Fish for a few days off.”

Oswald felt relieved. “That is very kind of her.”

Katherine nodded shyly and looked at Oswald patiently. He didn't continue right away, but placed Gertrúd's dessert in front of her first.

“I came by to give you something my mother prepared. It's Palacsinta with chocolate sauce.”

Her face changed with a genuine smile as she peeked into the paper bag. “Oh, please tell Gertrúd that I am thankful. It's very sweet of her.”

Oswald nodded and pushed the small bag lightly to the side to make room for the package he brought.

“There is also something I would like to give you…”

Curiously Katherine examined the thick brown envelope Oswald had placed before her.

“What is this? A manuscript of some kind?,” she asked in awe.

Now it was Oswald's turn to grin triumphantly and say,

“No it's Fish’s-” He wasn't able to finish since Katherine instantly covered his mouth.

Startled he looked at her stern expression.   
“Office. NOW.”

She retreated her hand and quickly led him to the back room where a large table and a few chairs were. Katherine pulled the door closed behind him and sat down with the brown envelope. After studying a few pages she stared at them with her mouth agape.

“Oswald! How did you get these?!”

A little flustered the black haired man sat down.   
“As I was about to say, it's a few copies of Fish's financial plans. And how I got them can be retold another time. Key is, I made these copies for you.”

Wide eyed she gracefully touched the pages like they were the most beautiful jewels she had ever laid eyes on. Oswald felt happy to have pleased her with his gift.

“You risked getting caught by Fish… for me?”

“After you told me you were a bookkeeper, I thought it would be beneficial to start copying the files I got my hands on. I wanted to show them to you. Now I did.”

Katherine's eyes became teary and she beautifully said, “Thank you, Oswald. This means a lot to me. You made one of my wishes come true.”

He scooted closer to Katherine and lightly touched her arm. “I also did it as a sign of apology for following you in secret a few nights ago. Will you forgive me?”

She touched his hand and looked into his blue eyes. “How can I not forgive you after what you have done for me. But for official purposes I do.”

Oswald smiled and felt gratitude towards his wise mother who knew exactly that her plan would work.   
A worried look came over Katherine as she moved her hand away and put it with the other into her lap.

“Oswald, I don't want to possibly ruin this moment.   
But I need to tell you something.”

He took his hand from her arm and swallowed nervously. A knot of anxiety began to form in his chest.   
“Fish made me an offer. And I accepted it.”

Oswald's chest grew tighter. “What kind of offer?”

“She wants me to work for her personally. Like a secretary of sorts.”

Before he could fully react to the news he forced himself to listen to her. She held up her hands defensively.   
“I will not intrude on your tasks. I asked her about that. She intends to have me as an assistant to her and Butch and frequently to you if you need.”

Oswald's tension relaxed a bit, but he still felt caution upon hearing from the recent exchange between them. “Fish holds you in high regard, Oswald. And didn't sound like she would want to reduce your position. I believe she is genuinely interested to 'grow’ her own crime family. She wants to rival another, but didn't tell me more yet.”

The black haired man released the breath he didn't know he was holding and finally said, “This will require a little time to take in, but this might make considering my offer easier.”

Puzzled Katherine turned to Oswald and asked, “What do you mean?”

He intently looked her in the eyes. “Katherine, I want you to work with me. Let's share the effort, the pain, and the success to rise to the top! Like we said we would do at the club a few weeks ago.”

“Are you serious?” Her incredulous face revealed a hint of hope.

Encouragingly he pointed to the files on the table.   
“I am, Katherine. This is only the beginning. We can achieve great things together!”

A triumphant smile took hold of her face and she grabbed his hand to shake it.

“I know we will! I accept your offer, future king of Gotham! As long as there is a place beside you at the top.”

“You have my word, future treasurer of Gotham!”

  
They sealed the deal with a good handshake and agreed to meet up soon again to discuss the new routine they would develop at Mooney's Night Club. When Oswald left the store, he felt confident and happy to have somebody on his side with whom he could shoulder the burden. His good mood was reflected in the spring in his steps and he nearly skipped on his way home to tell his mother that he resolved the issues he had with Katherine. From this moment on, his dream of becoming the top crime lord became more real.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 'Black Birds' up to this point!:)   
> And thanks for all comments and kudos!  
> I will post two more chapters which take place a few months in the future, to give you an impression of how the second part of the series will look like.


	18. A Cause For Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months later...

Folders, Binders, and Documents were layered on every inch of surface Oswald's tiny desk provided. A few more books lay open on the previous vacant chairs Katherine had moved behind the desk to have more space to work with. Deeply focused she changed a few numbers in a column here and a spreadsheet there to hide some money under transactions and businesses only Katherine was familiar with. Satisfied she put the pens away, back into the top drawer of the wooden table and shoved multiple sheets of paper back in to their respective envelopes and folders. It wouldn't be long until Fish and Butch would return from their recent errand.

A triple knock came from the door, a sign that Oswald was telling her to tidy up and give him the binders he needed to return to their boss’ office. A rush of urgency entered her movements, and the blonde sped up. A few minutes later she picked up the required documents and headed towards the door. Oswald who had heard her approaching steps opened it and waited to be handed the folders in her arms. Without words the two made their silent exchange with serious faces. Then it was her queue to return to the lobby and welcome Fish and her right hand man as soon as they entered through the main doors. She stood a few minutes in front of them and waited. Right on time the infamous couple stepped into their club.

“Welcome back, Miss Mooney,...Butch.” Katherine gave each of them a polite nod and held her hands behind her back like a trained housekeeper. She actually felt like one after the recent months as Fish's assistant. Fish gave the younger woman a big smile. The meeting must have gone off without a hitch.

“Hello Katherine, so nice of you to welcome us. Anything happen after we left?”

The bigger man helped his queen out of her expensive coat and draped it over his wide arm. He waited for the blonde to answer.

“No, Miss Mooney, nothing out of the ordinary. I did receive a call from Mr. Vedanza. He wanted to thank you again for the gift you have bestowed on his most recent granddaughter. He sounded very pleased and would like to invite you for another round of negotiations.”

The message of Fish's newest business partner committing to their end of the bargain lifted the already good spirits of all present even more. This time it was Butch who spoke out loudly, startling the shorter woman.

“Fuck yes! Took us a while to butter up that old geezer.”

The lady of the house snickered and patted Butch's shoulder approvingly. She passed Katherine and went on her way to the bar. Butch followed, but handed her the coat on his arm. With a low voice he asked, if she could bring it into Fish's office while he would prepare drinks for all. Katherine took the garment and walked towards the back of the club. A female voice called after her.

“Remember to fetch my little Penguin…”

Katherine affirmed her request with a nod and disappeared in the back rooms moments later. She was glad that nearly all staff had left for the evening.   
Since she was promoted by Fish a couple of months ago, her already fragile relationship with her peers had deteriorated further. As a cleaning lady she had only dealt with pretension of employees of higher rank,   
but now she could feel envy coming off of them like stink. Fortunately she didn't experience all this apprehension on her own. Oswald had been a target for their dissatisfaction on more than a few occasions.   
From time to time he did perform as pianist, but it had become apparent that Fish had granted him more leeway than others to use him for other secret errands as well. A slim well dressed figure exited Fish's office a few feet in front of her when she came close.

Her eyes met Oswald's and she said, “Fish asked me to pick you up. Butch is preparing drinks right now to celebrate the outcome of Fish's numerous plots.”

His eyes gleamed in satisfaction. “That is indeed a cause to celebrate. We should join in and acknowledge our part in it.”

After Katherine put the one of Fish's numerous coats into the her personal wardrobe she retreated from the room. Oswald locked the door behind him and put the key inside his inner breast pocket. Then he joined the blonde returning to the tiny party which had begun at the bar. Butch had prepared gin and tonics for every one and handed each of them a glass as they stood next to them. Fish had her own glass in her hand and raised it for a toast.

“We did it, people! Each of you did their part to secure us a deal in this new venture! Let's drink to us! Our family!”

“To family!,” Butch, Oswald, and Katherine said in unison. The two conspirators had become accustomed to Fish's recent endearments for them. All believed she did it to keep morale high and give her ranks a stronger sense of identity.

They chinked their glasses together and drank readily. Everybody's spirit felt high, although for Katherine and Oswald for another reason. Their newest Brandy smuggling deal would funnel a small amount of money to an imaginary business Oswald had set up. The blonde had covered their tracks and hidden the paper trail in other expenses which were detectable, but difficult to trace to its origin. More money for their personal plots.

The small group was immersed in a few light hearted conversations, drinking, and some friendly banter until Fish excused herself for the evening. She told Butch to close up when the rest would go home. The hour and mood suggested that Fish entertained the idea to visit one of her play things if that what Oswald had told her was true. Her three remaining lackeys saw her off and concluded their evening not long after. The blonde and the black haired man waited outside for Butch to close everything up. The evening was a little too chilly for Katherine and she tucked her already gloved hands in her coat pockets.  
She detested the thought that she wouldn't be going home yet to bury herself under her blanket. Duty at another part in town called, but Butch didn't need to know about it, since Oswald was on his way there too only by other means of transportation. As soon as the burly second in command stepped out, the three of them exchanged goodbyes and went on their way.

Katherine arrived at her destination forty-five minutes later via subway. She cautiously emerged from the subterranean floor and examined her surroundings.   
A true Gothamite would say that going into the Narrows by day is always a terrible idea, but entering the dangerous and seedy neighborhood by night is outright madness. The blonde checked if she could access her loaded gun easily enough when she peeked around a corner. To her relief Oswald stood at their agreed meeting spot and waited in the frigid night. It amused her a little to see that he straightened his collar to better hide his features. To top it all off he wore a black newsie hat as well. She would remind him later how much he looked like a character from his detective stories.   
But now, they needed to focus on the task at hand.   
With quiet steps she neared the black dressed man and made him aware of her presence.

Oswald gave her a curt nod in greeting and pulled her in close to speak to her in a low voice.  
“Are you ready?”

Katherine nodded and they walked another block down the street, always on the lookout for potential danger. Wisps of fog coming up from road's ventilation shafts danced around them and emphasized the eerie atmosphere they were in. Had the Narrows always be this dark, crooked place, or had there been a time were people could walk the pavement without fear of being stabbed any moment? A nobler part of her wished that she would have the means to turn this place around some day, a more rational part of her whispered it would never be possible.

“We're here,” interrupted Oswald her train of thoughts.

He pointed towards the entrance of a cellar where a weak yellow light shone, taunting them with a false sense of security. Both carefully descended the small amount of steps and stood in the open hallway. The door must have been opened only a little while ago, as Katherine felt a soft streak of warmth coming from the inside.

“I think she is not alone,” said Oswald.

Damn, it would have been too easy if their evening plans had concluded the same way as all others today.   
The informant had been told to come alone, but must have decided to bring extra protection. It had been wise to join Oswald on his errand. Who knew in which danger he could end up in if the other party didn't follow the terms of their agreement. The shorter woman spoke in a hushed voice.

“How do you know?,” asked Katherine.

It was difficult to read her partner's expression in the dark, but his voice sounded certain.

“I can smell cheap cologne coming our way.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“I go in alone and make the payment. You watch my back and interfere the moment the situation diverges from our desired outcome,” Oswald responded. “I will ask for the time, if I need you.”

Katherine couldn't help but smirk a little.  
“Why is that the code?”

The man in front of her gave her an annoyed look.  
“Because it's something I can add into any sentence without causing too much suspicion. Yelling a codeword completely unrelated to our circumstances would make even them alarmed.”

The blonde furrowed her brow after being chided for her inappropriate reaction. Oswald let go of her and pointed towards a niche next to him and motioned for her to wait there. Then he moved on without her to the source of light.

She pressed herself close to the wall and sharpened her ears in hope to be within hearing distance of the transaction her partner was about to perform.   
Slightly muffled she indeed heard voices, but not all spoken words were comprehensible. In part due to the slang their informant used. Luckily, she had Oswald who had a great talent in understanding every person to whom he spoke to, no matter how thick the dialect or accent. This time she made out his voice as he addressed their contact.

“I thought we agreed that you would come alone, Cherry.”

There was a low sound of a woman snickering. “Don’t cry. Just -- helping --.”

The woman was definitely standing much further away from the nearby door and was difficult to understand. The third person attending the meeting hadn't said anything up to this point. Katherine slowly pulled out the Makarov pistol she had carried in the inside of her coat pocket. Although it was small in size, the weapon had a good punch to it and fit into her hand very well.

Oddly Fish had chosen it for her and had supervised her training. The dominant woman was a great instructor, but very strict and reprimanded her student for the slightest mistake. It hadn't shaped Katherine into a great shooter, but allowed her to feel relaxed and focused when handling a firearm. But now, she had to concentrate much harder to keep her calm as she followed the conversation a dozen feet away. It was the first time that Oswald could end up in her line of fire if she didn't pay close attention.

She heard the shifting of heavy feet on the grimy floor next door. Her worry over Oswald grew this instant and she held the gun a little more tightly than needed as she strained her ears to pick up more.

“You broke a rule of our agreement. Do you plan to break more?,” asked Oswald with a tinge of malice in his voice.

“Big --! I want -- alter -- --ment. Give -- and -- my -- -- here won-- --. You’ll -- -- me now.”

The two of them stopped talking for a few seconds and Katherine stepped very quietly out of the nook she was told to hide in. The impatience she felt couldn't keep her away much longer. It didn't matter that her partner might become upset with her, right now she felt she had to position herself in order to react fast. A moment later she had to.

“Oh dear, is it time already for your imbecile accomplice-,” an insulted grunt was heard. “To pummel me to the ground?”

A female confused voice wasn't able to finish her answer as Katherine knocked back the door separating her from the group and rushed into the room. The short woman had an easy time looking for the biggest target and found a big man looming over Oswald with an outstretched hand. A rush of anger shot through her at the thought of somebody injuring her best friend. Without much hesitation she shot the hired muscle of their informant four times into his meaty chest. There would be no room for reluctance towards her partner's attacker.

Oswald's face wasn't cast in utter shock and surprise as the short blonde woman brought the broad and heavy set male down. As a display of confident dominance, he had only worn a dirty stretched muscle shirt to intimidate his victim with his thick arms.   
Moaning audibly and clutching his chest tightly the brawler watched how red ringlets rushed down his chest and pooled beneath him. He fell forward like a cut down tree and nearly crushed Oswald hadn't he stepped away in time. For good measure Katherine put another round into the big man's head which ceased all movement. Their black clad informant backed away, her mouth open wide in a silent scream.

“Cherry, don't move! Or I will empty this gun into you,” Katherine said with a strict tone.

The tall short haired woman stopped in her tracks and cursed under her breath as she slowly turned around, only to be welcomed by Oswald with a knife at her throat.

“Now, let's try this again. Shall we?”

His malicious grin made the woman in his grasp tremble and twist her expression dreadfully. He shoved the woman between himself and Katherine who held her gun aimed towards her torso. Her wide glistening eyes revealed that she didn't doubt that either Oswald or the shorter woman would end her life if she messed up again. With her now subdued demeanor she fell silent and waited for either one of them to speak. The black haired man chose the initiative.

“Cherry, it is not in our interest to shoot you the same way as your partner. You knew that you shouldn't bring anyone! So why did you bring that meathead?”

Katherine watched the woman squirm under Oswald's demanding glare.  
“I-I wanted… a bet-t-ter deal! Shit! You shot MY brawler! He was only s-suppose to give you a scare! How am I gonna make money without him now!?”

The young man stared down at her and swiftly held up his forefinger tipping it side to side like a lecturing teacher.

“Cheeeeerryyy… That was a big mistake! We do not take broken agreements lightly. Isn't that right?” He gave a quick nod in Katherine's direction and she held the gun towards the kneeling woman's forehead.

“NO! DON'T SHOOT! PLEASE!!!”

This time the smaller blonde lowered the gun, but still held it high enough to seriously injure Cherry if she intended to. Katherine felt a rush of exhilaration, as she shared this moment of intimidating their victim with Oswald who obviously enjoyed it as well. They didn't like bullying the weak, but they sure loved it when somebody was screwing them over.

The two of them exchanged a short grin, before Katherine said, “Listen, we want to keep this deal going. But only if you will OBEY.”

She held out an empty hand towards her partner who reached into the folds of his coat to bring out a thick small envelope. Cherry's eyes sparkled hopefully when she saw Katherine waving it in front of her.

“This is a sign of our goodwill and mercy.”

She handed the frightened woman the cash who was gawking at it in disbelief.

“We want you to know that we can be very generous. Business can come your way…,” the blonde didn't let go of the money when Cherry laid her fingers on it.

“Or not.”

Katherine let go of the envelope and it traveled to its new owner's needy hands. The informant slowly stood and looked at the two business partners. Oswald stepped forward and regarded her with a predatory glance.

“Do you want to keep making money?,” he asked.

Cherry nodded.

“Then follow your instructions in the future. Your intel on our Brandy trade deal has been helpful. Keep that up and you will get paid. And if you're especially good, we'll help you get a say in the Narrows.”

He pointed to Katherine. “She's the one who will issue your payments. Whenever you see her, you treat her well, but don't show that you know each other. If she gets hurt you will be poor again. Have we made ourselves clear?”

“Yes. I gotcha... You're the boss,” affirmed Cherry.

At the sight of Oswald's sardonic grin Katherine felt a small rush of pleasure. It was arousing to her when he showed his power over somebody. Especially since it was mental superiority and not physically related.   
She lowered her gun and took a few steps back to give their informant some space. Oswald demanded that they would meet in two weeks to get her intel on the Falcone crime family. Cherry had ties to servants who could get closer than anyone they knew. The time would come where Fish might need dirt on someone, and they would be the source of the information, putting themselves in her good graces. The conspirators in crime watched Cherry go, before they left the room and ascended the stairs back to the entry of the cellar.

They stood huddled together in the confines of the walls the narrow alley provided. Oswald called a cab and offered the driver twice the fare, since drivers didn't feel very compelled to enter this dodgy place in town. Katherine wished that Oswald would hold her close more often like this, but knew he did it only for protection purposes. That in itself was nice too, but from months of working together and making preparations for their grand plan, she had developed an admiration and fondness of him which stirred inside her chest, waiting to be expressed at some point. His Machiavellian sense of planning was a delight to behold and equivalent to a chiseled man flexing his muscles. The blonde was afraid that it would complicate their partnership and decided to keep her emotions to herself and be content with the rare moments where he would give her special attention.

Not long after his call the cab arrived and Oswald opened the door for Katherine to enter first.   
She inwardly sighed a little with glee when she saw his gentleman behavior. Then he closed the door behind him and scooted almost a little too close to the blonde. Katherine didn't mind at all and made no inclinations for him to move to a chaste distance.

Her well practised poker face didn't reveal any of her slightly embarrassing emotions and she merely said,   
“I am glad we turned that mess around.”

“Indeed. There was potential for failure, but we made it out of the woods without harm.”   
Oswald paused shortly before saying, “Good shooting back there. The intimidation had its desired effect.”

“Thank you Oswald. But I think that your presence had also a great part in it.”

She thought of saying that it had had an impact on her as well, but that might have crossed their border of comfort. So she just watched him give her a praising smile. They drove on for a while without talking and waited for the cab to get closer to Katherine's neighborhood. A few minutes until their destination, Oswald spoke up with some uncertainty in his voice.

“We've accomplished so much during the last weeks. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea...to celebrate and acknowledge our success? Without pretending... in front of Fish and Butch?”

Heat flowed into the young woman's cheeks and other parts that caused a fluttering sensation in her belly.

“Do you mean… just the two of us?,” Katherine asked carefully.

Usually they would spend time together with Gertrúd, but she truly didn't know what he was imagining. If it were the case he wouldn't sound so shy.  
He stared at the back of the driver's seat for a few seconds, looking lost in thought. Then he answered with a shaky ‘yes’ and looked quickly at Katherine. She was almost too surprised to say anything and needed some time to respond.

“That would be nice. Did you have something in mind?”

Oswald's eloquence appeared to be slowing for the duration of this conversation.

“Dinner?,” he simply suggested.

Katherine's face lit up and she fought the urge to hold his hand affectionately. She agreed and asked if she could help in any way. Oswald modestly explained that he would take care of everything and would let her know after tomorrow's shift when and where they would meet. It was difficult to see the entirety of his face in the dark of the cab, but she interpreted the sight of his dimples as a good sign.

The driver interrupted their talk rudely to inform them that they had arrived. This time Katherine didn't hesitate and squeezed Oswald's hand in a friendly gesture.  
It surprised her anew that he held on to her longer to wish her a good night in a low voice. She hoped that he wouldn't see her blush and returned the sentiment. Swiftly she shut the cab door and looked back once, before entering the building. He looked back at her, but couldn't make out his expression. The cab drove off and Katherine walked through the door, thinking about how his dinner plans would turn out. Only when she was lying in bed did it occur to her that Oswald might have asked her out on a date.

 


	19. A Night To Remember

> “That went pretty smooth…,” the cab driver uttered sarcastically while Oswald watched his blonde business partner enter the apartment building.

“This is none of your business!,” the blushing young man snapped as he studied his folded hands on his lap.

Either Oswald's reaction or a lack of talkativeness lead to the driver's ongoing silence. The passenger in the back contemplated about what he had actually said and wondered if it had been a good idea. When the initial thought of celebrating had struck him, he imagined spending time with Katherine in a leisurely setting. Strangely though, there were two images in his head which fought for acceptance. One, they would have a dinner together with his mother and tell her a lie for the cause of the celebration. And two, he would spend a whole evening with the blonde alone, no Gertrúd, Fish, or Butch to hover over them. Which of the two would he prefer?

Oswald furrowed his brow in concentration. Why did he agree to Katherine's assumption that they would celebrate alone? Hadn't he imagined to include Gertrúd in the first place? Or was the idea of a private evening just too inviting? On the spur of the moment it felt right to give her a positive answer, even though there had been some anxiety.

The cab driver suddenly stopped and Oswald realized that the remainder of the drive was entirely lost to him. All the questions in his head had made him unaware of his surroundings. He paid the driver and looked through the car window for anything suspicious, before he opened the door. In just a few steps he had entered the residential building and saw the empty stairwell leading up to the apartment of his mother.

He quietly locked the door behind him when he made sure that no one had followed him. His behavior might border on paranoia, but a Gothamite understood that one had to be overly cautious in this city. Oswald hung up his cloak and hat, and sneaked towards his room.  
His mother was very likely sleeping deeply by now and not awake to ask him further nosy questions about his whereabouts. He would probably hear those tomorrow.

After undressing, and a visit in the bathroom, he lied in bed and thought more about his partner than he actually wanted to admit. Oswald liked her. He didn't know if it was a transition from feeling neutral to feeling fondness or if it had happened like a flick of a switch. His invitation had proven that he wanted to spend more time with her and that was what he intended to do. With or without his mother.

.

The following late afternoon Oswald was too far lost in thought to notice his mother asking him for the third time if he wanted to have more tuna salad on his plate. He must have stared into the distance, as Gertrúd somehow impulsively thrust more food onto his plate which created a ceramic clanking sound. It startled the young man and he blinked a few times before focusing on his impatient mother.

“Oswald! What is the matter? You are so distracted.”

The black haired man sighed a little and looked down before he met his mother's eyes.

“I apologize, Mother. I have been busy at work lately.”

More wrinkles formed on Gertrúd's forehead as she retorted, “What is this job doing to my sweet boy?”

Her old hands touched his right wrist resting on the old fashioned table.  
“You are behaving odd, Oswald. More often you think, think, and think. And then you don't see me!”

Her offended demeanor tired him and he tried to stay calm as he patted one of her hands in response.  
“My work is very demanding. You know that. It pays well and it offers possibilities to make a career.”

She looked a little guilty when she said, “That is wonderful, my boy... But is it only the piano playing? Why is does it make you like this?”

Gertrúd had hit a sour spot in her son and he reasoned the way he mostly did with her.  
“I am not merely a night club pianist anymore, Mother. My employer has promoted me to one of her personal assistants.”

“Yes, yes… You say all the time. But what does she make you do?”

Oswald counted his responsibilities with an upraised hand. “I schedule her meetings, overlook some of the bookkeeping, attend meetings and protocol them, and from time to time I carry her umbrella. She is an important business owner in town.”

The old lady shrunk back a little and gave her son a long look. He knew that look well by now and always felt hurt when he was on the receiving end.

“I worry about you, Oswald,” she finally admitted.  
“I want my boy to be happy and healthy. You work too much and never take break.”

This time it was him who took her hands in his.  
Her words resonated with him, and once again he was thankful for having such a loving mother like her. She had always been there for him and only wanted the best for her little boy. Oswald promised himself that he would never shatter the innocent image she had of him, in fear that it would break her heart and make her despise him. She must never know how much evil he had done and was willing to do to become a great man. Gertrúd had always believed in his grandeur and he would not disappoint her. In this instant he decided to do something nice for his mother.

“Mom, you have always worked hard for me. I want to do the same for you. Perhaps I have underestimated how my position weighs on you.”

Glistening blue orbs looked hopefully into Oswald's eyes. The corners of Gertrúd's mouth slowly curved upward.

“I think it is only right to show you what my position can offer. My apologies for not doing this sooner, but I think you deserve to be spoiled, Mom.”

A mix of surprise and joy appeared on the old lady's face.

“What do you mean, Oswald?”

“It is simple, Mother. I want you to relax and stop worrying over my well-being. It is taking its toll on you. Let me do something nice for you. Whatever it is, I will pay for it.”

Giddily she clasped her hands together and gushed with anticipation. “You sure...? Anything?”

“Of course, Mother! Only the best for you!”

Gertrúd played with the several rings on her fingers and regarded them in thought. Would she like more jewelry Oswald asked himself. She recently received a pair of gold bracelets he bought for her, but he assumed that she was hoping to get something else.

Finally she enlightened him and gleefully exclaimed,  
“There is a beauty spa not too far away. It has massages, and manicures, and relaxing baths…But, it is too much to ask!”

“No, Mother,” interrupted Oswald. “It sounds like a lovely idea! You will be able to soothe your worried self and enjoy the attention you deserve. I will gladly pay for it!”

His mother got up and stretched out her thin arms to gather her son into a loving embrace.  
“Oh, Oswald! Thank you! You are such a good boy!”

For good measure she gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek. Then she sat down and continued eating in silence. Oswald joined in and smirked in triumph over the stubbornness of his mother. Gertrúd informed him that she would make an appointment for the coming week if the beauty spa would make it available to her. Her excitement was a joy to witness and Oswald felt good about doing his mother such a big favor. She also suggested that he come with her, but he declined politely and explained that it is something she should do on her own, since he might be called to work on short notice. She reluctantly accepted, but soon was talking about which treatments she would like to try.

They spoke a little more as they finished their meal and then tidied up the kitchen together. While drying the cleaned dishes Gertrúd handed him, Oswald thought of how he would actually like to spend time with Katherine. Now the option to be alone with her presented itself for the duration of his mother's appointment. He was considering having a dinner here where nobody would see him together with Katherine. They had agreed that they didn't want to appear as close friends to the public, in order to give others not an impression that they were working close together or even conspiring against their superiors. The private confines of his home would offer a casual environment where both of them wouldn't have to be on guard and at a socially acceptable distance towards each other.

Half an hour later Gertrúd saw her son off and watched him leave her again as he often did in the early evening. Oswald had asked her to make an appointment at the spa as soon as possible and was nearly unaware of the pleasant anticipation he felt in view of his private party.  
He decided to hail a cab and got into the passenger seat as soon as it stopped for him. On his way to the club he realized that it would be the first time in his life where he would have somebody over without his mother around. As a child his mother would closely monitor who he had met and brought home to play with which had been quite rare. None had crossed the friendship threshold afterwards.

This time would be very different in every way possible. It even made him nervous to an extent, but he couldn't tell why. Nevertheless he would speak to Katherine during work and invite her for homemade dinner.  
Oswald walked through the back entrance to get to Fish’s office. He hoped to find his glamorous boss there to get an assessment of his timetable and the gist of his tasks for the next few days. The sound of Butch's booming laughter caught the black haired man off guard and he spun his heard towards the source. It came from one of the spacious stock rooms he had passed and figured that the burly man was making strange jokes again. Curiosity lead Oswald inside the storage facility which held several palettes of alcohol, sodas, and items of decor which the staff would use for special thematic evenings at the night club.

Butch and Katherine stood next to each other talking about the amount of vodka bottles within a palette.  
The much shorter woman was holding a clipboard taking notes whenever a large finger would point at something. The choice of their wear also reflected the interaction between them. Butch’s shiny tailored suit seemed to increase his extroverted behavior, whereas Katherine's quaint looking skirt and blouse was pale in color and demonstrated her introverted demeanor. Sometimes he wondered why she wouldn't wear nicer clothes, like the blue dress she had worn when he visited her in the book shop. Her salary had increased which would allow her to get a new wardrobe, but perhaps she needed the money elsewhere. Oswald found that Butch and she were too close to each other, but swallowed his irritation about it. Instead he approached them, greeted both politely, and asked Butch about Miss Mooney’s whereabouts.

“Oh yeah, Fish wanted you to tinkle on your piano tonight. She's in her office, so get the details from her.”

Oswald thanked him and quickly left the scene. He would need to find Katherine later where they could have a quiet exchange under four eyes. Now he was focused on work and wouldn't let the thought of his burning question distract him. Or at least he wished it so.

.

Many hours passed at work without an opportunity to even get close to Katherine. Fish had demanded of him to play some relaxing music for a few hours. It was taxing and hard to focus on the chords he needed to play, since every streak of blonde hair in the hall caught his attention. Slowly his impatience grew and he wished to get a signal from his boss to stop playing. Fish had arrived some time later to hover around guests, going from one table to the other to share a few words. Oswald was also upset that Katherine wasn't even around to hear him play. She had expressed how much she enjoyed his music and he liked the way she would talk about his talent. Finally when his fingers were almost about to tense up, the woman in the flamboyant golden dress motioned him to come to a close.  
The pianist gladly did and closed the lid of the keys shortly after his last song.

He retreated from stage, with the sound of some moderate, but approving applause, and began to search the crowd for his trustworthy partner. It irked him that she was so difficult to find and he nearly considered to ask his boss where the blonde might be. It didn't look like Fish would need his immediate assistance and he swiftly walked towards the staff rooms with a certain urgency in his step. Oswald looked in the stockroom she had been earlier, and two more, but didn't spot her.  
His office had been empty as well. Perhaps he would find her in her infrequently used cleaning chamber. When he entered, he noticed that the apron and her bandana were gone, removed from the hooks on the right dingy looking wall. The absence of her cleaning attire could only mean that she was restoring the state of a room somewhere. Her former duties had nearly been all replaced by new staff, except the most important one of scrubbing blood off the floor.

It was quite amusing for Oswald to think that a dead body would be such a recurring problem in this club. Considering Fish's temper it might happen more often than at a regular mob owned business. The seedy bars in downtown Gotham which were owned by Maroni's gang were a magnet for trouble makers and they tended to sleep with the fishes in the end. At the thought of Fish he headed towards her office and knocked at the closed door. Seconds later the person he was looking for opened it, and gave him a surprised and exhausted expression. Katherine welcomed him in, but stopped him from going further. He saw why when she pointed towards two bodies wrapped in tarp and a few plastic bags filled with dubious contents. A little worried about Katherine's pale complexion he stood in arm's reach to catch her in case she fainted.

“I am almost done here. Only the floor polish is missing. Sorry for the smell, I had to use more chemicals than usual.”

Oswald examined the two bodies with a raised eyebrow.  
“What happened here?”

The crime scene cleaner went to her bag of supplies and used a gray rag to apply a portion of floor polish. Then she kneeled and worked on an area in front of the two chairs which were opposite from Fish's desk.

“They were actually three, you know.” She pushed the rag with both hands across the floor. “The two you see there have been made an example of. The third was left alive to spread the message. Lack of respect and debts have been their downfall.”

The slim man waiting near the door rolled his eyes.  
“Why do people not see that it's her red rag?”

Katherine held back a small giggle. “Red rags is what they left behind.” Then her countenance calmed.  
“She stabbed them. One got sick over the floor and that made her even angrier.”

“You watched everything happen?”

“No, I am glad I didn't.” She studied all the spaces she had cleaned the past three hours. “Butch gave me a pretty clear description of what went down. He was looking pretty shocked himself.”

After gathering all her supplies in her black duffel bag, Katherine zipped up the opening and swung it across her shoulder with a huff. She struggled with it and Oswald immediately lessened the burden by taking the bag from her. She looked apologetically at him, but he insisted on carrying if for her. It made him happy to see her smile at him in gratitude and the two of them walked out of the office and back into the cleaning room. They didn't talk, even though Oswald was burning to discuss his dinner plans with her. After what appeared to be an eternity Katherine had changed and met the impatient pianist in the hallway. She looked better and had regained some color on her cheeks. While she closed the door behind her, Oswald checked the hallway for inquisitive listeners.  
When he deemed it safe, he neared Katherine and looked at her dark brown eyes. Something inside them made him nervous.

“Katherine, I wanted to ask… Regarding our dinner plans...”

Her expression grew hopeful and her face brightened. She waited for him to continue.

“I would like to invite you to my home. It's private and no one from work would see us together.”

“I agree, it's safer,” said the blonde. “Also I get to see your mother again. Ever since I quit my day job I had fewer opportunities to meet her.”

Oswald couldn't help but smile at the mention of his mother. “She won't be joining us, since she has an appointment that day.”

Even he noticed that the notion of his mother's absence caused a reaction in her. His lack of experience with women or friendships in general didn't help with his interpretation. It vexed him that he didn't grasp it.

“I will cook for us,” he stated.

Katherine smiled at him and the tinge of irritation he felt weakened.

“That sounds like a lovely idea, Oswald. If you're cooking, then I will bring dessert. Agreed?,” she said with an elated voice.

“Agreed,” he finished and returned her smile.

A subtle tingling sensation went through his diaphragm which caused the hairs on his nape to stand on end.  
The suddenness bewildered him, but he didn't show it.  
They decided on a date and time and briefly discussed specifics about their private party. As soon as they were done, both returned to the main hall to see what their queen might need. Oswald was loathing the fact that he had to be available at her beck and call and looked forward to an evening with his conspirator dreaming about a future without Fish.

.

The beginning of the week had been challenging for Oswald. There were a number of 'meetings’ with thugs he had to attend with Fish and nearly all of them were outside in the ever rainy and wet Gotham. He had been degraded to her 'umbrella’ boy for those days and made him do submissive things. Her outburst which caused the death of two associates had soured her mood and gave her the idea to demonstrate how much power she was wielding. As her personal human accessory he had to make sure her hair wouldn't get frizzy, carry her personal belongings, and also massage her feet in front of others.

It relieved his agony in a way to know he would have an early dinner with Katherine soon. Fish's schedule for the next few hours would conveniently offer an opportunity for escape when she had to go see Don Falcone.  
The appointment had been on his radar for a while and was a welcoming chance to have some time off. Now it was only necessary to endure the remainder of this session, before he could go home and prepare. With odd intrigue he noticed how sore Fish's feet were and worked on smoothing out the kinks. It was a few months ago where she had the epiphany to force him to massage her. With threats, kicks, and soft approving moans from her he had actually gotten good at it.

While massaging he examined her pedicured feet and wondered how Katherine's feet would feel like in his hands. A blush crept into his cheeks as the thought delighted him. He imagined them to be soft like Fish's, but perhaps less tough or scarred at the sole. Some faint scars were a constant reminder of the tough life Fish had lead during her upbringing. He remembered a story she had told about kicking some woman's face in and the bite she had received. His thumb moved across the ball of the foot and his boss rewarded him with a content sigh. Oswald cringed and counted the seconds where his torment would be over. Eventually Fish pushed him away with her foot and motioned for him to put on her red high heels. The time had come to pay Don Falcone a visit. After draping her heavy coat around her shoulders, she even bid him goodbye and left.

Oswald jumped up exuberantly and almost ran out of her office. He calmed his demeanor and hurriedly walked down the corridor to his room to retrieve his personal items. It didn't take long before he was out the door and hailing a cab to get home as quickly as possible. On his way he went through the recipes which he wanted to prepare. A day or two before, he had bought all ingredients and made sure his mother didn't use them up. Their menu was made up from mediterranean dishes which went well with the red wine he had procured. He loved his mother's cooking, but craved different flavors for his taste palette once in a while.

The cab came to its stop and Oswald paid the driver to leave the car. Shortly after he opened the door to the apartment and found that his mother had left him a note with the time of her estimated return behind.  
He memorized the time and swiftly got to work in the kitchen. The starter was the easiest to do and could sit a little when he would prepare their main course. The red snapper filet with mussel tomato sauce and linguini had been one of the tastier recipes he had found in one of his mother's cook books. He hoped that Katherine would enjoy it as much as he did. During his preparations he tried to guess what kind of dessert she would bring.  
Not that he had a sweet tooth in particular, but he enjoyed almost anything which tasted good. Perhaps his busy schedule had helped to keep off any excessive pounds.

Slowly and surely the ingredients came together to create a wonderful mix of mouth watering aromas. Proudly he examined the sauce and stirred it a few more times before removing the spoon. Then he examined the clock in the kitchen and noticed that Katherine would arrive very soon. Excitement grew inside him and he retreated to the sitting room to get two wine glasses out of the tall cabinet looming over him.

As he saw his reflection he realized that he hadn't changed his clothes he had worn during his shift with Fish. Startled he stepped back and darted into his bedroom to find something nice to wear. He cursed inwardly for the lack of thought he had put into his wardrobe for the impending event. After forcefully pushing a few coat hangers with jackets aside he spotted the suit he had been planning to wear for his next promotion under Fish's employ. It felt reasonable to wear it as a sign that he was getting closer to his goal. Satisfied he put the black suit with the dark purple satin vest and bow tie on his bed and began to change.

The sound of the doorbell sent a startling jolt through him as he just put on his dress jacket. In a hurry he picked up the loose bow tie and threw it around the back of his neck, to tie it as he marched to the door. With only a few minutes left he studied himself in the mirror which hung near the wardrobe and restyled his hair. He moved some of his strands from his forehead and brushed them upward to make them stand up slightly. The bow tie was bound within seconds with practised presion Oswald had achieved from years of tieing. He heard an audible clicking of heels approaching the door and he opened it to welcome the blonde inside.

Her sight took him by surprise when she entered his home. He wanted to say something, but her dressed up appearance made him inarticulate for seconds. Her long blonde hair looked smooth and shiny and was draped across one of her bare shoulders. Her dark red lipstick looked alluring in combination with the mahogany colored pencil dress she revealed after taking off her coat. It showed not too much cleavage, but enough to cast a small teasing shadow between the curves of her breasts. Oswald took her all in and caught himself staring at her. He gulped and quickly regained his composure.

“He-hello Katherine, come in and make yourself at home.”

“Thank you, Oswald. And hello to you too.”

He gestured towards the counter of a wooden sideboard where his mother kept various table cloths.

“You can put the bottle and the box on there for now.”

Katherine passed him and did as he suggested.  
She turned around catching Oswald's glance for a moment as he retrieved two glasses from the tall wooden cabinet. Did she bat her eyes at him just now? He ignored the thought and offered her a seat on the large couch. Then he filled their glasses with a white wine he had opened earlier and handed her a glass.  
He sat down next to her and watched her pulling at her long sleeves to adjust them, before taking the drink from her host. By the look of it, the dress was new and hadn't been worn often. Nevertheless it appealed to him, a subtle mix of classy elegance and seductive sex appeal. Seeing her like this really made him want to ask her about her wardrobe.

“Let us celebrate together. The Brandy smuggle deal, our new informant, and the money we made off Fish's new income are all waypoints to our much greater goal which has come much closer. To us, dear Katherine.”

“To us, dear Oswald.”

They chinked their glasses together and took a generous sip from their wines. Katherine regarded him with smile.

“You look very handsome, Oswald,” she said shyly. “Purple suits you well.”

He smiled bashfully and thanked her for the compliment. “You look equally or rather more stunning,” he countered.

Katherine blushed, thanked him in return and drank a big sip of wine. They looked at each other shortly, but averted their eyes when their gazed met for too long. Oswald felt uncertain why he had such a hard time having a regular conversation with her. Both have had numerous discussions and talks up to this point, but this situation was different. The way Katherine presented herself caused a number of mixed emotions inside him. He wanted to sit closer to her, smell her hair, or touch her hand. In the past he had felt the same way about his only friend from school, before he betrayed him.  
Now there was also a sense of danger coming from her. Not knowing what would happen if he allowed himself to become affectionate.

“Oswald, are you alright?,” Katherine asked. “You weren't answering my question.”

Startled Oswald replied, “Oh, yes. Sorry, I was lost in thought. Could you please pose your question again?”

“I smelled something very appetizing coming from the kitchen. What did you cook for us?”

Oswald welcomed the new topic and began to elaborate on the Italian food he had chosen for their early dinner. He described how he cleaned the mussels and made them dispel their salt and grit. Katherine admitted to having little experience of seafood preparation and intended to memorize his instruction. During their smalltalk Oswald would get up and prepare one small step for the completion of his recipe. Eventually he invited Katherine to the dining room to begin their first course of buffalo mozzarella with fresh basil and tomatoes. The meal itself was simple, but the ingredients were the best Gertrúd's trusted produce shop owner had in stock. Katherine took the first bite and moaned softly in pleasure as the rich flavor hit her taste buds. The sound wasn't arousing, but it had caused a subtle spread of goosebumps on Oswald's skin nevertheless.

They ate for a while in peace and shared mindful conversation. It would have been perfect if Oswald's head hadn't been filled with conflicting thoughts. By now he had finally admitted to himself that he found his partner attractive. He didn't like the fact that she had this kind of effect on him. Women and men have only on rare occasions elicited such a response from him. It was something he prided himself with that others would have a harder chance manipulating him this way. Did she intend to work her charms on him for an ulterior motive? They have explored this topic before, but it was something that tended to resurface if things were going far too well. Oswald grew sceptical and studied Katherine closer for the duration of their meal.

The time had come for their main course and the cook presented a finely garnished plate to his guest. She was impressed by the effort he had put into the food. After they both had a few bites Oswald's inner monolog was interrupted by Katherine.

“This tastes truly amazing! Thank you for going through all this trouble to cook something for us.”

His manners responded nearly automatically.  
“It was no trouble whatsoever. I enjoyed it. And I am glad you find it to your liking.”

“Is there something you love to eat? A favorite dish or recipe you like?”

Oswald considered his answer and replied, “I think my favorite food is probably tuna. If I crave it I would probably kill for it.”

Both laughed about his little joke. The notion itself was just bizarre and a funny metaphor. Now he wanted to know the same from her.

“Then what is your favorite?”

“I feel a little embarrassed to tell you... It's nothing fancy or sophisticated,” she answered and then took another small bite.

“We can all experience joy from the simplest things. There is no shame in it. Tell me, please.”

“Well, if you ask so nicely…,” she said flirtatiously.  
“It's french fries. I can't really explain it. The taste and the texture just speak to me. My parents had a phase were they had to stop me from eating them every day. I am glad they did.”

“You're right. It is embarrassing.” Oswald chuckled and witnessed how the blonde gave him a mock hurt look. They continued eating until their appetite and hunger were satisfied. Later, they cleaned up the table and spoke about the recent books they have read.  
It was an enriching to talk about the things which interested him and have somebody equally interested return something profound to the conversation.  
His chest tightened at the thought of losing his only friend, because of false suspicions. He enjoyed her company too much to put it all at risk. Especially when he saw Katherine expressing her adoration for his tastes did he perceive a strange tingle in his belly. After concluding their last discourse about which antagonist in literature resembled Fish the most, did Katherine suggest to have dessert.

“Oswald would you mind if I used the kitchen for a moment? For preparing the dessert?”

She put her hand on his as she asked and waited for his response. He suddenly wished for her to touch him in other places and he involuntarily shuddered as he chased away the thought.

“Of course, do as you like. Let me know if you need anything.”

Katherine thanked him and got up to retrieve the box and the bottle of wine she had brought. He considered opening the window to breathe some fresh air in an attempt to clear his mind. Perhaps the stuffiness of the room and the wine was playing tricks on him and giving him strange ideas. It didn't help that his partner looked like an unfulfilled dark desire he didn't know he had.  
The sound of heels filled his ears and he turned his head to see her carry a tray with two glasses of red wine and small plates with round dark brown and red tarts.  
The blonde placed his glass and his plate in front of him first and then put hers next to it on the coffee table.  
Katherine took a seat quite close to him and pointed towards the set table.

“Voila! Homemade strawberry chocolate ganache tarts with a Pinot Noir of Maison Joseph Drouhin. Enjoy!  
I hope you will like it.”

Oswald examined the pretty decorated chocolate tart and the red wine. He took the glass in his hand and swished the liquid around to loosen the fragrance. By the smell of it, she had chosen a wine he would probably like. After taking a sip and noticing her eager glance, he gave her an approving smile.

“This is a great wine. I like it.”

Katherine was visually relieved and urged him on to try the dessert next. It was almost a little unsettling how much she was waiting for his feedback, but he might have felt similar in regards to his cooking. Oswald took a bite and was hit with a wonderful combination of rich and sweet flavors. The ganache was creamy and heavy, but the tartness of the strawberry evened it all out.

“Katherine, what did you put in those tarts?,” exclaimed Oswald. “It tastes incredible.”

A little too modest she responded, “It's just an old recipe from my father. He is a cook at a pub, but he has a passion for pastries.”

Oswald took another bite and cherished the delicious dessert. She followed his example and ate with pleasure. Both emptied their wine glasses and refilled them in the course of the meal. An agreeable wozziness was coming over Oswald and he scooted a little closer to the blonde. The smell of peaches coming from her hair filled his nostrils and he sighed in delight. Katherine looked like she was having a good time as well and was within whispering distance of her host.

“Would you like another?,” purred Katherine into his ear as the two of them looked at his empty plate. Her lips nearly touched his ear and he purely wished they had.

Oswald simply nodded and witnessed the woman next to him reaching towards his empty plate. The way she stretched her neck, exposing her bare skin only inches from his face made Oswald shudder and contemplate if he should lean forward and brush that tender flesh with his lips. He fought the urge and merely stood still as she took his plate. While his guest was in the kitchen, Oswald took in a few deep breaths and let them out in long sighs. What was the matter with him tonight? Why was it such a challenge to control himself? He blamed the alcohol for lowering his inhibitions, but actually also enjoyed the feeling. It would be foolish to deny that he craved the attention Katherine gave him. She made him feel good about himself which people around him rarely did.

Katherine exited the kitchen and walked back to the coffee table to place the tart in front of him, but there was a shakiness in her step and she stumbled a little, nearly dropping the plate. Worried Oswald got up to meet her and held her arm.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No, I am fine. I'm sorry for being this clumsy. Butch kept me on my feet today and chased me around for the entire shift. I should have worn my regular shoes,” she lamented with a tinge of regret.

Oswald looked at her tired feet and had an idea.

“Come, sit here, Katherine. Let me help you.”

At first the blonde was reluctant, but then sat down where he told her to. Oswald touched one black heel and looked at Katherine for permission to continue. She nodded softly and saw how he gently pulled her shoes off. She blushed as he asked her to turn towards him so that he could put both her feet on his lap. With wide eyes she studied his hands, as he picked up her left foot to give it a firm squeeze. Her mouth opened a little in awe, giving Oswald confirmation that he was doing the right thing. A moan escaped her next which clearly embarrassed her.

“You're...very good at this, Oswald. Are all pianists this skilled with their hands?”

With a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment he said,  
“Not all, I think. I had a good instructor.”

He couldn't remember if Katherine ever saw him massage Fish’s feet. Hopefully she hadn't and he didn't intend to mention it, especially when she was appreciating it so much. Her feet were soft as he imagined, but not polished like Fish's always were. The sound of her satisfied sighs caused an agreeable heat in his belly which was rising with every touch he gave her.

“Thank you, Oswald. But, I’m preventing you from eating your tart. You can stop now if you like.”

Oswald didn't feel like letting go of her, since the position she was in revealed a little more of her legs where her dress had slipped. He felt shame for thinking dirty kind of thoughts, but his body urged him on to keep her close.

“I don't mind,” he assured her. “You have nice feet.”

Katherine's face turned a shade darker and she shyly said, “Thank you, Oswald... You're sweet.”

Both became quiet, except for Katherine's low moans she tried to stifle. His hands were kneading her feet, but slowly crept up to her ankles as well. Feeling courage swelling inside him, he moved his hands further along her legs and waited for a sign of resistance. To his delight, she welcomed his advances and even gave him 'come hither’ eyes. Oswald's heartbeat sped up, his focus targeted at Katherine's lovely lips, which looked too inviting to just ignore.

He could smell her breath of wine and chocolate and a craving for a little more dessert grew. His brain screamed at him to stop his foolish lustful behavior, but his feelings conveyed to close the distance between them. Oswald scooted closer to Katherine and pushed a strand of hair away from her shoulder. It obstructed his view of her smooth skin. He heard her quick intake of breath and saw her looking longingly at him. His mind struggled over the control of himself, but his body knew what he truly wanted.

Katherine appeared to know what she wanted as well as she pulled him towards her to meet her lips with his. Oswald's senses were flooded with a myriad of impressions and he feared he might faint from it. Their first kiss was soft and innocent and tinged with everything words couldn't express. Oswald was nervous, scared even, and wished this moment would stop and never end at the same time. Katherine shifted a little closer to him to deepen the kiss. Instinctively he responded to her tongue and let her explore his mouth. One hand moved to her waist, whereas the other crept towards her hip, following the curve. Fish had always confirmed that he was a fast learner and now it finally seemed to pay off as he settled in to the movements and began to enjoy it.

He dipped into her mouth with his tongue and tasted the flavors he was yearning for. Katherine moaned in content and it was a silent invitation for more to his ears.  
Her hands discovered the small hairs of the back of his neck and she gently stroked his sensitive spot.  
The feeling spread to all endings of his body like a web of tiny satisfying impulses. The sensation created a rising heat in his belly which also increased his anxiety.  
Gently Oswald pushed Katherine away of him to catch his breath. Her flushed cheeks and half lidded gaze only added to his overall enthusiasm.

“Katherine… I think we need to stop. I-I don't know…”

“Please, Oswald...,” she interjected and brushed the palm of her hand across his chin. “Don’t stop.”  
She looked deeply into his bright blue eyes. “If this is about our agreement… I promise nothing will change. Don't you want it, too?”

Why did her innocent tone sound so alluring to him? And why did she always have to end the conversation in a question, forcing him to decide? He wanted to say yes, but his rationale was challenging him. How naive had he been to invite her on her own? Did only he think, that it was supposed to be an innocent evening together as friends? He ruffled his hair in exasperation while taking labored breaths.

Suddenly he felt Katherine's hands prying his apart to put hers on each side of his face. Then she kissed him deeply, slowly at first and then with increased intensity as he eased back into their make out session. Oswald slowly surrendered as his long suppressed passion took over. He was terrified, but also excited about exploring each step of his sinful journey. The blonde paused for a moment to loosen his necktie, to fling it to the other side of the room. He wanted to protest, but was distracted as her nimble hands opened the top buttons of his black dress shirt. Her touches made his flesh tingle in a nice way and he took initiative by opening and peeling out of his vest himself. If his partner was so willing then why not go all the way?

Oswald had often felt self conscious about the appearance of his body and stiffened as Katherine's fingertips stroked him. He held his breath as she opened his shirt further and placed a hand over his beating heart. His pale, hairless, and flat chest wasn't a shining example of masculinity and he worried about her reaction. Her smile and eagerness dissipated his fears as she started kissing the rise of fresh goosebumps.

Craving her lips he pulled her up into a kiss and tasted the delicious confines of her mouth. His hands moved on to her shoulders, then her collarbones and halted before the curve of her bosom in silent waiting of her consent. A little unwieldy Katherine took one of his hands and lay it on top of her left breast. He squeezed it mildly which elicited another moan from the blonde. Copying her movements from before he bent his neck and placed light kisses along her neck and the top of her breasts.  
His nose touched her skin and smelled her scent which slowly made him hard. His arousal increased at the awareness that he would lose his status of virginity tonight. During this moment he couldn't help, but grin triumphantly into his soon to be lover's lips.

A sudden obnoxious ringing tone came from the wardrobe. Katherine yelped in surprise, whereas Oswald flinched from the abrupt and noisy interruption.

“What was that?,” he asked in agitation.

The blonde propped herself up, pushing Oswald into a sitting position as well. She gawked at him while jumping towards the source of sound.

“It's my work phone! Fish could be calling!” She fumbled with her coat and reached the old flip phone. “I'm sorry I have to take it.”

Oswald just looked dumbfounded at her. If Fish was responsible for this rude intrusion, he would have another reason to kill her. An apologetic Katherine approached him, putting her finger to her lips when she answered the phone. She held the device in a way which would let him listen into the conversation. His curiosity batted down his anger and he calmed down enough to quiet his breathing.

“Katherine, are you there?,” said the strict voice of Fish.

The blonde furrowed her brow in worry. “Yes, yes! Hello, Miss Mooney! Sorry for the short break, my phone was stuck in my coat.”

“Nevermind! I know you asked for a night off, but there has been a change in the schedule.”

Katherine looked nervously at Oswald, but he only stared intensely into the speaker of the phone.

“What's is the matter? Miss Mooney?”

“I need to know if you can alter a crime scene.” The loud clacking of heels on concrete could be heard.

“What exactly do you need, Miss Mooney?”

Impatiently Fish said, “Can you place false evidence and make it look real?”

Oswald watched Katherine close her eyes thoughtfully. She shuddered and he grabbed her hand to calm her down.

“Yes. I can.”

“Good. I want you to come to the warehouse on 12th street. Now. Butch brought your kit. I want you to walk me through it. The hit will happen in the next hours.”

“I understand, Miss Mooney.” She gulped and looked helplessly at Oswald.

Fish hung up the phone. The blonde slowly lowered hers, her other hand still holding on to Oswald's. Her free hand balled into a fist and she cursed audibly. He felt like cursing too.

“Why of all moments, NOW?!,” the blonde complained to her closed phone. She shook her head annoyed and suddenly jerked.

“Oswald, I don't have anything to change with me! I can't let her see me like this!” Her voice rose. “She'll be suspicious if I'm too late.”

“Calm down, Katherine. As bad as it is, I think I have a solution.”

He stepped away from her and closed the buttons of his shirt. Then he moved a few finger through his hair to lessen his disheveled appearance. Katherine followed him with a confused gaze as he walked towards a room she wasn't familiar with. The sound of opening drawers could be heard, some rummaging of fabrics, and a few minutes later Oswald returned. He had a dark brown skirt and white blouse in his arms which he handed to his partner. She studied the clothes for a second.

“Thank you! I think these should fit.”

Without much hesitation Katherine started to undress in front of him, pulling at her zipper. Oswald was curious if she would insist on him closing his eyes or turning away, but her frantic behavior distracted her too much to notice. He sighed, for once a little annoyed of his own good manners, and he turned away from her. Trying to locate the bow tie she threw into a corner. The shiny surface of a silver plate his mother had placed on a cupboard revealed that Katherine wasn't wearing a uniform set of underwear. Her strapless bra was a plain brown and her panties white. He guessed that she hadn't expected their dinner to become so heated either. At least it put his suspicious mind at ease. The bow tie soon returned to its righteous place around his neck.

Katherine stepped around him to look at herself in the wardrobe mirror. Seeing her in the old clothes of his mother did funny things to him. He killed the tiny wave of arousal within him by focussing on a photo of himself and his mother posing in front of a professional photographer.

“I am sorry that I have to go,” Katherine said. “I ruined our evening.”

Oswald shook his head. “No, you didn't! Fish did!” He felt his temper rising. “It's like she is humiliating me from a far as well!”

His words made Katherine halt in her steps as she put on her cloak.

“Oswald, what do you mean? What does she make you do?”

Sexual frustration and exhaustion increased his temper. “Not now, Katherine! Another time. The wicked witch is waiting for you.”

She shrunk back a little from his outburst, but decided to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for this lovely time together…” She caressed his face affectionately. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

They embraced each other and lingered in their deep kiss. Then the blonde broke it off, put on her heels and retrieved her folded dress from the couch. She handed it to Oswald and asked if she could leave it with him until they would meet like this again. He nodded as she headed towards the door. Oswald opened it for her and observed her hurriedly walking down the hallway and down the stairs. Then he closed the door of the apartment and looked at the dress in his arms. It was still warm and smelled like her. He buried his face in it and wished that that damn phone had never rung.

 

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the first part of 'Black Birds'. The next part will mostly follow the chronology of the first season of Gotham, but have a few changes.  
> Thanks for reading!:)


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